To Repair A Broken Spirit
by dustqueen537
Summary: A seemingly normal SHEILD agent is attacked by unknown forces and seeks solace in Stark Tower. However, she is not all that she seems, and some new visitors from other worlds will prove it. A Loki redemption/romance story. Loki becomes part of the Avengers. Action/Romance/Friendship. Language, violent scenes/imagery, sexual innuendo, mild sexual imagery
1. A Knock on the Door

*****REVISED CHAPTER*****

Emory surveyed the darkness around her, tiny shards of light seeping in from around the curtains to dance along the wall. She lay in bed, wondering what had woken her. Before she could discount the odd feeling and go back to sleep, she heard it again.

 _There._ A faint scratching noise, coming from the front of the house. The sound played on the edges of her hearing, just barely loud enough for her sensitive ears to pick up. Realizing her concerns were well-founded, she reached over the side of the bed to the table beside it. A security feed pulled up on her iPad showed a group of heavily armed men at the door.

She raised an elegant eyebrow before grabbing a comm piece and her pistol from beneath the same table, jumping into action. Currently the men were trying to pick the lock, probably to keep their presence as quiet as possible, but she knew it would not hold them for long. Eventually they would just break the door down. She needed to be gone by then.

Creeping from the room, her cats ghosted from the shadows to wrap themselves around her legs, purring and meowing with urgency. They knew something was wrong as well.

"Tonight we flee my friends, this is no place for a fight." They settled into the carrier she offered and she moved down the hallway.

Lifting her hand up, she called quietly over the comms. "Anyone out tonight? I could really use some backup."

A lengthy pause stretched out before a reply came through. "I'm about 15 out Emory, what's the problem?"

Relief. "Well Clint, I have visitors, and I don't think they are here to carol the Yuletide season. Right now they are trying to pick the lock."

Another long pause.

"I hear you. I expect you are already initiating an evasion plan?"

"You know I prefer not to fight. It gets...messy." Almost to the end of the hallway, she turned as a racket of splintering wood and manly grunts spilled into the living room. She sighed. "Damn! They got tired of fooling with the lock and are breaking the door down. Too late to run now."

Reaching her intended door, she stepped in and bolted it behind her. Turning back, she took in the quiet scene before her. A crib sat under the window, a slot of moonlight falling perfectly on it to illuminate the angelic infant lying within. Dark raven eyelashes rested on ivory cheeks, and matching curls tumbled around a tiny face.

"Is Cara with you tonight?" Hawkeye's voice chimed through, breaking the silence and magic of the room. Emory shook herself out of her short trance and turned back to the task at hand.

Picking up the sleeping infant, she quickly looped her into a sling while answering the question. "Of course she is. I'm going to have to hide her, fight, and then run before a second wave arrives."

"Well I'm on my way, about 10 minutes. Keep me posted and stay safe. No crazy risk tonight."

"Crazy risks, me? I'll do my best," she replied dryly. "Over and out for now."

Now that backup was on its way, the agent carried her child to the opposite wall. A quick code typed into the hidden keypad there revealed a special nook. The cubby hole was fully stocked with an emergency backpack, assault rifle, and Kevlar vest.

Trading Cara and the cats for the equipment, she shrugged into the vest and shouldered the silenced rifle.

The hidden door of the nook shut with a decisive click, reassuring Emory that her loved ones were safe. She turned and strode out of the room with purpose, bare feet padding across the carpeted floor. She hadn't had time to dress, or put on shoes. _Oh well._

She imagined she was quite a sight, a Kevlar vest over tank top and shorts, and bare feet as well. Emory grinned despite herself. Clint would get a kick out of this for sure.

Another crash sounded through the house followed by the hard stamp of several booted feet on hardwood. The door was compromised.

Turning the corner, she dropped down on one knee, raised her rifle, and quietly downed the point man before darting into the kitchen. _One._ She had to depend on the darkness and her knowledge of the layout to give her an advantage.

Skirting around where she guessed the back of the be, she did a quick mental count of the remaining men. Six left.

 _Hmm, odds aren't bad then,_ she thought, before coming up behind a man and plunging her long serrated knife into his soft flesh, right where the neck met the shoulder. _Two._

She laid him down against the wall with care, still relying on stealth. It was then that they came upon the first man on the ground, and all hell broke loose. She moved forward into the room, ducking below a fast swing to slip her blade between the ribs. _Three._

Before he even reached the floor, the agent had twisted again, swinging her knife out to the next assailant, only to be blocked. Not discouraged, she swirled around behind him, her long dark hair following in her wake. Coming up flush against his back, she reached up and snapped his neck. _Four._

Her knife went flying across the floor in the chaos, and she rolled to the side to avoid the spray of bullets that came her way. Mid-roll Emory pulled her own pistol, neatly taking out the last man. _Five._

As he dropped to the ground, she took in the macabre scene before her. Sprays of blood decorated her carpet like some bizarre work of art. _Someone would probably buy it too._

As the cynical thought crossed Emory's mind, she did another count, realizing her mistake. There were only five bodies. She ducked and rolled to her left on instinct, coming up against the island of the kitchen.

Lurching from his missed swing, the last man stumbled to his knees in front of her, where she waited with pistol ready. He looked up at her, no remorse, no regret. Just acceptance. She obliged his expectations, shooting him between the eyes. _Six._

The battle over, she drew in a deep breath and then let it out. After a moment, she moved back to the nursery. Pausing again the doorway, she took in the violet walls, a detailed mural of a white picket fence bordered by daffodils and lilies, and the delicate wings of her crystal butterfly mobile gently turning over the crib. It would be a long time before they came back, if ever.

She sighed again. She had gotten caught up in the peaceful existence of her maternity leave, forgetting what a violent and unforgiving world they lived in.

"Alright Clint, this batch is gone. Cara and I are headed for the back garage. We will meet you at Safe House Delta." Clint's terse voice sounded through the comm. "Roger that. I took care of the men waiting out back already. I'll flank you for the second half and we can meet up at the elevator."

Re-accessing the nook hidden in the wall, she slung Cara around her, shouldered the backpack, and grabbed the cats before heading for the back door.

She stood in the shadows of fence running the length of the property, contemplating the peaceful landscape of her quiet suburban neighborhood. Trees were lit by dim street lamps, making every shadow suspect.

Cold seeped up from the ground into her feet, still bare. It forced a shiver through her small frame. At least Cara was warm in her sling.

Reassured by the continued silence, she crept from shadow to shadow towards the dark garage in the corner of the lot, skirting the cooling bodies of yet more soldiers. The large building hunkered low to the ground, a single light swaying back and forth like a beacon of hope.

Once she reached the door and let herself in, Emory released a breath. She could handle this fine by herself, but the bundle that was her daughter resting against her heart raised the stakes. Her nerves were slightly frazzled with worry for Cara's safety.

Towards the back of the garage sat a black SUV, waiting. Hurrying to get in, she called over the comm again. "I'm in the car, ETA 10 minutes."

"I'm right above you Em, you look all clear from here. Head out and I'll tail you."

From the sky, Clint had a bird's eye view of Emory's situation, just as he liked it. He used that to his best advantage, scoping far to the east and west. From here he could see the long roads coming up from the countryside, which should be deserted this time of night.

That made them a prime highway for incoming enemies. Sure enough, a cloud of dust rose in the distance, the only indication of the approaching force.

He swiveled the quinjet to face towards them, and flipped a switch on the dash. "Emory we need to move. That second wave is only six mikes out."

A lever and a knob later, and the weapons were primed, just in case. _Heaven help us if I have to start shooting in this suburbian hell. The UN would have a field day with that._

"They will be on us in a few minutes, get your ass out of there!"

As if on cue, the SUV tore out of the garage and onto the street, heading further into the city. Clint took the time to shake his head and smile as the vehicle careened around corners and raced down alleyways, creating a confusing pattern that was difficult to follow even from the air.

 _She should have been a damned racer,_ he thought to himself.

Before too long the convoy behind them was out of view and the safe house in sight. The SUV disappeared into the black maw of an underground parking garage beside a nondescript, grungy vehicle.

Clint landed the shielded quinjet in a designated area, knowing that Emory would wait for him before getting out of the vehicle.

He left the jet and strode to the safe house, keeping an eye out from his peripherals. A steel arrow gleamed in the moonlight from its place nocked in his bow. Once in, he moved to stand next to the SUV door.

The tiny brunette stepped out with care, looking around as she fell in beside him. He was only a little shocked to see that she was practically indecent underneath a Kevlar vest, and barefoot to match. "Couldn't find your shoes but you had time to bring your cats? Really?'

She looked at him with bright irritated eyes. "My cats are very important to me, thank you. I couldn't bear to leave them anymore than Cara." She brought a hand up to caress her daughter's curls.

The infant in question was nestled into her mother's chest, sleeping in a sling of his and Stark's design, made especially for Cara when she was born. The sling held the infant snug against her mother, giving Emory optimal movement, while keeping Cara safe behind a special synthetic vibranium cloth that was damn near Hulk proof. They had tested.

He rolled his eyes and slouched against the sleek black car, still keeping a watch from his peripherals. "If you say so. You're the one losing an arm to that carrier, not me."

Emory delicately dragged air through her nose in an indignant huff, swinging her hair around as she retorted, "I think I will manage," before heading towards the elevator.

It was good to know they could keep up this banter even now. It meant Emory wasn't so high strung she might make a mistake

He knew she had to be stressed, what with Cara, and even the cats, being in danger.

His long legs and her shorter ones ate up meters as they walked, dull metal doors looming closer and closer. Once in, the woman beside him leaned her body against the wall and sighed deeply, the air escaping her nose in a rush.

"What do you think this is all about?" All he got in reply was a slight shrug, so he pressed on. "I'm all for having an exit route, but to actually need it?"

She glanced up from where she studied her shoes in silence, giving him another shrug before replying. "I'm not sure. There's no telling really, what with all the enemies Kyle and I have built up together over the years."

She looked up sharply then, blue eyes piercing his. "Does anyone have eyes on him right now? I can't imagine I'm the only target in all of this."

He could see the worry she was holding in in the tiny crease between her eyes and the slightly droopy corners of her mouth. It was her tell, how he knew when she was in intense concentration and strain.

Understandable though, seeing as her husband was on mission for two weeks and now this popped the peaceful bubble of her maternity leave.

"Nat's been with him for the past couple of days, she'll keep him out of trouble. We can find out once we get settled." She nodded absently, obviously not really with him at the moment. Instead she gazed at the lights slowly moving up with the floors.

Before long they reached their floor, and once the door opened she snapped back into the present.

Stepping out behind Emory, Clint noticed as soon as she stiffened, and he was back on high alert. Ahead a small pale man waited for them, looking up them up and down.

"Fancy meeting you here."

Emory studied him under a hooded brow, obviously on guard. "Yes, well," she answered, "I felt like a late night walk. Do you have any coffee?" He smiled slightly. "Only decaf right now, Bridgette went out for leaded."

She nodded slowly, as if to herself, before smoothly pulling out her pistol and firing two bullets into the man's chest. Clint simply raised an eyebrow as he watched the man crumple to the floor. He swung his curious gaze to his companion, looking at her until she answered his unspoken question.

"The safe house has been compromised. Bridgette and I worked out a pass code to give over if tortured. It would alert us that something was off." She shook her head slowly. "I imagine she's dead. We need to leave, the second wave will be here shortly. I'm sure they know where we are."

"We can just take the quinjet to Avengers Tower. Surely that will be safe enough." He watched her relax slightly before finally nodding in agreement. It was a strange reaction, as if Emory feared she might not be allowed haven.

That thought was ridiculous. Even as a SHIELD agent, she was a friend of several of the Avengers. They would never leave her and Cara out in the cold.

As they walked she finally replied, "Yeah that's going to have to be the plan for now. I hate being in the face of things, but I need to regroup somewhere. We can't keep running from place to place with Cara along.

 _Ah maybe that's it. She does hate being the center of attention._ Emory was more of a background person. She preferred pulling strings and subtle manipulations to charging in guns blazing.

 _Although she's good at that too,_ he thought with part amusement, part respect.

With their new plan of action decided, they turned and left the unknown man's body lying in a growing pool of crimson. There was no need to linger, a team would come through to clean up and investigate what happened here.

As they took off, Emory relaxed that final bit. After making sure Cara was still sleeping soundly against her chest, she nodded off to sleep for the journey. She was safe among friends.


	2. Clean Carpets

*****Revised Chapter*****

Clint studied the sleeping woman beside him as they flew, wondering what thoughts were going through her head. Even being SHIELD, it wasn't every day you used an exit plan, especially when that agent was in a blackout home on maternity leave. No matter her thoughts, Emory didn't let the stress show on her face or in her actions. She was as cool as always. He shook his head again and focused on getting them to Stark Tower.

She woke up just as they were touching down, starting awake before realizing where she was and who she was with. Emory reached down to the spot over her heart where sweet Cara lay, and was rewarded with a coo and sparkling emerald eyes gazing up at her, full of innocence and trust.

 _Nothing will ever harm you, my love. Not so long as I live._ Smiling down into her little face, she crooned, "Good morning little _elska_ , how are you today?"

She was rewarded with a gummy smile and a wiggle. Even at a few months old, the infant knew the sound of her mother's voice. The smile warmed Emory's heart, coming from this little bundle of joy she had created.

 _Hers._ No one else's. There was no one else to claim her, take her away. Except someone was trying. The agent was brought back to the cruel, real world, where people were trying to invade their sense of safety and hurt her and her beautiful daughter.

"I still don't know how Kyle managed to make such a cute kid." Emory looked up to see Tony Stark leaning up against the bay of the quinjet, smiling at the maternal display.

She flashed a quick smile. "Well luckily, she looks just like her mother," she jibed back as she rose. "And that certainly makes it easier."

Tony's eyes tracked her movement as she casually slung the carrier over her shoulder. A panicked look came across his face, uncertainty flashing in his eyes. "What's in there?", he managed to stammer out, backpedaling back down the ramp.

A thrill of perverse amusement shot through Emory, her twinkling eyes appraising Tony in speculation. A fear of animals. She could use that.

"It's just my cats Tony. I couldn't leave them behind." His face went from pale white to green. "Thank you, by the way, for agreeing to accommodate us," she continued smoothly, passing him on the ramp and getting on the elevator.

Tasteful modern decor and sleek metal finishes greeted them as they stepped off, along with a calming buzz ever present in the building. A stable security system, and Jarvis's constant vigilance.

His stuttering increased as they continued down the hallway. "Cats? I didn't say anything about cats!" He tried to get in front of her as they walked, but her pace was quick. "I knew you and the kid were coming an hour ago, and now I have to deal with animals too?"

His tone was growing louder, ending in an impressive tirade once they reached the living quarters. "What if the varmints get their filthy animal junk into my robotics?!"

"Jarvis, what's the chance of that happening?" Emory asked no one in particular, phrasing the question to the air. She knew the AI heard her.

"Not likely, Agent Emory, especially if they were to be contained within the living areas."

Various seating arrangements were scattered throughout the large living room, a massive TV on one wall playing several different news stations to no one in particular. In another corner a fireplace lay cold.

A large kitchen with a center island branched off to the left, and down from there a long hallway stretched, several doors dotting it periodically.

That was her goal. "Then they will stay in the living areas. Thank you again, Tony."

She struggled to maintain her composure and cool expression as Tony's face grew red while he grabbed for any plausible argument, before he finally turned pale and hung his head in defeat. She could hear him muttering about traitor inventions and rabid animals in his tower as he walked away.

Once she lost sight of his irate figure, she let out a chuckle at his expense. It felt good to tweak someone's nose, especially right now. Tony had marked a target on his back now.

"You've been here all of then minutes, and you've already managed to piss someone off? Is that a new record?" Emory turned to find Bruce Banner leaning against the kitchen island, where he had probably watched the entire exchange. She allowed herself a smile for her favorite scientist, hurrying over to be wrapped up in a warm hug. She let herself relax a tiny bit and breathed in the earthy scent of one of her best friends on this world. She hadn't seen him in months.

"What are you doing here? I thought you were on hiatus for the time being." She stood back to look at him fully. He looked good. Whole. Like he had been well fed for quite some time, and was content. "You look great, by the way."

He flashed a bright smile before answering. "I could say the same to you, and ask the same question. But to answer yours first, I had some research that could only be done here.

She smiled fondly at his admission. _Boys and their toys._ "Is the rest of the team hiding around the tower as well?"

"Actually no. Everyone but Tony, Clint and I are on mission. Natasha is overseas, and everyone else is doing something or other that requires a little more _finesse_ than I can usually offer." He smiled at his joke, although it didn't quite reach his slate grey eyes.

"Hey lighten up Banner. You know being grounded has been good for you. You look better than I've ever seen you, and you know it's because you haven't had any field work." She nudged him with her shoulder, looking up with dazzling, pouting eyes that begged him for a smile.

He looked down at her and rolled his eyes, but nonetheless smiled. "When you look at a man like that doll, how are we supposed to resist?" She felt the grin spreading across her face with the realization of her success and retorted, "You aren't, that's the point."

A low whine interrupted their banter.

They both glanced down at the mostly forgotten bundle on her chest. It had begun to squirm in irritation, not happy with being ignored. Emory knew what that whine meant. Someone was hungry. As if on cue, her own stomach grumbled in response. They both were.

"Well, motherhood calls. I need to get something into this child before she brings the whole tower down in her outrage." Bruce's face fell. He hadn't been formally introduced yet, and she could tell he was dying to hold the baby.

"Let me feed her, and then I'll bring her back out. You can be properly acquainted then while I get something to eat myself."

"Deal. I'll be here, drinking coffee and trying to solve all the problems of the world without turning green." She smiled and turned away, heading down the hallway to the rooms prepared for her.

She hesitated a moment, then turned back around with a wide smile. "Oh, by the way Bruce?"

"Hmm?" He didn't look up from the newspaper he had picked up off the counter. She rolled her eyes at how easy it was to distract him. "The record is six minutes. Fury is pretty easy to annoy."

The quiet scientist's eyes shot up from the paper, taking in the serious face Emory was sporting. He burst into laughter. "Now that I can believe. Six minutes...oh that's great."

Leaving him to his mirth, she picked up her bags, readjusted Cara, and headed down the hall to settle in and feed her daughter.

"Welcome back Agent. It's been some time since you stayed with us. Everything is prepared for your arrival." Jarvis's voice greeted her as she stepped into the suite. A cozy sitting room was before her, with a bedroom and nursery shooting off from either side. She smiled and set her bags down, releasing the cats as she went.

They exited the bag as one unit to explore the new surroundings before apparently growing bored, lounging before the door and lazily bathing themselves. The felines looked up to their master with a knowing expectations. They wanted out.

"Fine, but try to stay in your boundaries for now. We don't need to give Tony apoplexy." The cats meowed in agreement, before touching noses together, black to grey, and bolting out the door.

 _I'm sure they will find something to get into._ It didn't matter. Tony's discomfort or not, Emory felt better with two extra sets of eyes patrolling. She looked down at her daughter, who was also watching her with expectant eyes.

Emory smiled. "Let's get you fed." She settled down on a very comfortable sofa and released Cara from her sling, settling her in beside her mother's body. She unbuttoned her shirt, allowing her daughter to reach her breast and eat.

As Cara began feeding, Emory allowed her mind to wander back to the previous hours. Who was trying to attack them? Were they after her, or Cara? How did they even know where she was, or where or her safehouse was?

So many questions, and no answers. Perhaps Clint would have some information soon, and she would run down her own leads as soon as the dust settled. She would use SHIELD's resources as well.

Although she sat and pondered for several minutes, no immediate leads or clues came to mind. At least none she wanted to think about just yet. When Cara had sated herself, Emory buttoned back up and headed towards the kitchen.

Bruce sat at the kitchen island, propping a stool on three legs while reading the newspaper and sipping more coffee. While she was away, he had been joined by Clint. The archer leaned up against the wall and perused a tablet while balancing a piece of toast on yet more coffee. He looked up when she walked in.

"Those two hellions of yours just tore through here like the devil himself were behind them. They looked like they were ready to sniff out some trouble." Emory smiled at that. "They won't get into too much, I assured me they would be on their best behavior."

"They _assured_ you? So now you can talk to your cats too?" Tony strode in with his signature eye roll, hands on hips. "If I see them sniffing around my machines, I'll use them to test my new weapons."

Emory swung around, Cara on her hip, hair following a split second later to tumble down her shoulders in an ebony mess. "I wouldn't recommend it Tony Stark. The repercussions might be….severe."

He gave her a dirty glare before stalking to the fridge and yanking it open, taking out a carton of eggs and the milk. "Sit down and let me cook you breakfast. You've had a trying morning."

Her eyebrows rose in surprise. She hadn't been expecting civility from Stark, especially right after a spat, but she didn't look a gift horse in the mouth. Emory passed her daughter over to Bruce, whose eyes lit up in delight at the chance to finally hold his goddaughter, and then sat down at the island.

She got straight to business and turned to Clint. "So what do we know so far?" Clint glanced up from his tablet and frowned before answering. "Well here's the thing. We sent clean up crews to both the safehouse and your place, but when they got there, there was nothing to clean up."

"You mean they sent out a crew before we could?" The idea was improbable, but not impossible. He shook his head slightly, a wrinkle forming between strong eyebrows. "No, I'm saying that it was like nothing had ever happened. No blood, no bodies, no clues. Nothing."

Now _that_ was impossible. "Trust me, I left a gruesome work of art in that living room! There's no way they managed to clean up that much blood before our people got there. And what about the door? It was smashed in!" She jumped up in frustration and began pacing.

"I promise you Em, there's nothing there. I know it sounds impossible, but it's true all the same." Emory turned back from pacing to face the seated men. "Well what about Bridgette? Any trace of her, dead or alive?"

He shook his head again, obviously frustrated. "No. No one has seen Bridgette for two days. Whoever did this, they planned well. It was like magic." A chill stole through her at the phrase, and she almost stumbled through her pacing. No one seemed to notice.

Clint continued on, oblivious. "The only thing they didn't account for was a petite woman with a small child to take down seven men on her own, and then evade another team altogether." His lips turned up into a small smile at the thought. "They underestimated you."

"Fortunately for me." She plopped back down at the bar, smiling at Tony as he set down scrambled eggs and toast in front of her, steam rising from the hot eggs. "Thanks Tony. I promise I love you, no matter how much I pester you." He simply smiled and jumped up to sit on the counter, turning to Bruce. "Come on Brucie, you can't hog the kid all to yourself. Let me have her for a bit."

Bruce reluctantly passed Cara over, who had no problem with all the attention she was receiving. Her smile lit up the whole room, and everyone else smiled back indulgently, unable to resist.

Emory sighed, exhaustion slowly creeping up her body as she finished her food. "Well, if I can trust my daughter to the three of you for a few hours, I could really use some sleep." She stood and stretched, allowing her muscles to loosen. "For some reason, I find myself tired."

Tony snorted, causing Cara to giggle as his goatee twitched over her face. "Gee, I wonder why. Go on ahead. I'll make sure nothing happens to the little monkey."

Saying that, he swung her up and headed for the couch. "We can catch the news, maybe watch some R-rated movies. Blood, guts, guns. All the good stuff."

Emory rolled her eyes at his speech, and saying goodnight, headed back to her rooms for some sleep.


	3. Project Nightshade

***** Alright guys, this chapter has been revised, but this is also where I begin rewriting with new content! So even if you are an old follower, now is the time to dive back in. I apologize, really, that the previous version was such a poor draft, because now you know the bare bones of the plot. I'm going to go ahead and take down the rest of the chapters for now as well, otherwise we are going to start confusing people. If you notice, this is my second update in three days, and I've already gotten more written out. Call it my post Infinity War creative surge. Or rather, I was so heartbroken by that plot I needed to write one that would make me feel better. I refer of course to the opening scene of the movie. You know what I'm talking about.*****

Clint waited for Emory to exit the room before turning back to the other men. He looked at them appraisingly before stating, "Kyle has had no attacks or suspicious activity in his area, nor have any other members of Emory's primary team. Whoever attacked her, only wants her."

"Or Cara," Bruce said, gazing down at the child in Tony's lap. She was currently enamored with this beard. "As improbable at is seems, it is a possibility we have to consider."

He shrugged uncomfortably at the thought and began turning the coffee mug in his hands around and around, trying to stay calm. Anyone threatening his goddaughter made him irritated at the very least.

"Yeah, ok, a possibility, but who the hell would want to hurt something this adorable?" Tony gestured down at the baby. She had now curled into his chest and was sleeping against his arc reactor. The low hum was probably soothing. "She's just a kid."

"A kid with extraordinary parents. Potentially, someone wants to take her young, mold her to their needs. A brainwashed soldier with an impressive skill set." Clint picked up another piece of toast. "Could be the Red Room again." Instead of taking a bite, he stared into the dark liquid he cradled.

"Emory, she's too old, too headstrong. They would just eliminate her and take Cara." He glanced up at them and then turned towards the massive TV on the wall. "That's just one of many possibilities though. Jarvis, bring up all the adversaries Emory has dealt with while with SHIELD, either alone or with a team."

Hundreds of imposing faces appeared on the screen, men and women of all ages and nationalities, looked down at them. Clint let out a low whistle and took a bite of toast.

"That's a lot of enemies." Bruce stared at the wall with grey eyes wide and a slackjaw expression. "Maybe we should narrow it down some. Jarvis, remove everyone who's confirmed dead." Well over two thirds of the faces disappeared. "There, that helps a bit. Alright, now how about anyone we can confirm is securely incarcerated at the moment."

Only six remained. Two women and four men stared back at them, angry and apologetic. "There we go. Six leads right there, six people with a possible agenda."

Stark laid Cara down in a crib in the corner, and walked over to where the other two Avengers were standing. "Yeah, but the question still remains. Why just her? Did she piss of anyone in particular? You know her best Bird Brains." He began picking apart a muffin he snagged from the kitchen, slender fingers working as he thought out loud.

"I'm not sure," he replied, still intent on the screen. His eyes studied each face individually, as if willing the person to give up all their secrets right then. "Everyone has enemies, especially in this line of work. We'll just ask about them when she wakes up."

"Alright, so we have possible child-snatchers, six potential enemies here, what about anyone Emory personally killed? Vengeful family members or lovers?" Bruce had gone back to the couch, burying his head in his hands as he worked through the puzzle.

Jarvis brought up three more pictures, these with a red X through them. "Would you like for me to begin a search through these files sir?"

"Yes, Jarvis. Get any info that seems relevant. Last seen where, what are they up to, any questions they've been asking, etc. Everything with their name attached."

"Certainly Agent Barton. I will also put them through the surveillance software in case any decide to pop up in New York City." The AI went silent as he went to work, but the faces remained on the screen for the trio to stare up at. Stark went to join Bruce on the couch, lounging gracefully with his feet propped up on the coffee table.

"I feel like we are missing something. There's more to this than a vendetta. Why only Emory? Who no one else on her team? Why not Kyle?" Clint paced in front of the New York skyline, running his hands through short cut hair. He turned back towards the couch, hitting his forehead with the palm of his hand, willing himself to think of an answer, with little result.

Not an answer he wanted to bring up out loud. They all knew the facts. It wasn't Emory the enemy was after. He spun away once more.

"Come on guys, think! There are two geniuses, a super spy, and an AI in this room. Let's get some answers."

Tony suddenly chimed in, "Jarvis, what about any adversaries before SHIELD?" Clint turned towards him suddenly. "Now that's a thought. Everyone has a past, and she came in with a skill set. That came from somewhere."

They sat in silence again as the AI worked.

After a while Jarvis spoke back up. "Sir, I have only one piece of information concerning her past." A heavily redacted document popped up on the screen, leaving only one or two lines available to read. The three men took a moment to look it over, examining everything carefully.

Finally, Bruce asked the obvious question. "What's Project Nightshade?"

She was surrounded by darkness, yet some sort of ambient light made it possible to see a short distance. Mist swirled around her feet, always giving way so that she never quite touched it. _Where am I?_ Even though she thought the words to herself, they echoed around the space, repeating over and over, getting further and further away. Wherever she was, the space was huge.

She closed her eyes and pushed her consciousness out and around her, sensing for any sign of life or company. She searched, and found...nothing. She was alone in this private hell. _It's a dream,_ she realized. A dream that she was aware of and couldn't escape. Just great.

Someone had brought her into this dream, so challenging them might get results. She called out into the darkness, "Whoever you are, you should go ahead and show yourself! I know I've been brought into a dream, which means you have a purpose. Let's just get this over with."

There was no reply. No other consciousness drifted through, there was nothing. Just Emory and the mist. She huffed quietly to herself and sat down, settling in for the long run. There was no telling how long she would be stuck here.

Time seemed to creep on while Emory studied her nails. Still no one showed up. While she was stuck here, she wasn't really sleeping. _And she wasn't awake either! Cara!_

She called into the mists again. "If you have anything to do with the attack from yesterday, know that I'm looking for you, and I will find you. You picked a fight with the wrong woman!"

Still no response. Well, time to break out of here. She closed her eyes and breathed slowly through her nose, in and out, gathering her strength. When she had some time built up, she forged her thoughts into a blade and shoved it through the mists, shattering the dreamscape and returning to her body.

Sensing all was well with the baby, she let her body fall into a real sleep.

Once her form had blinked out of the mists, another figure stepped into view and stood where she had sat. They spent some time just looking down at the ground before also blinking out of existence.

The phone seemed to ring on and on, filling the room with its trills as they waited for the other side to pick up. Jarvis had been trying the line for almost two hours, with not much luck. Tony's patience was running thin.

"What if the world were ending again?! What if someone were dying? Really, of all the people who need to answer their phones, this is one of them!" Clint watched him pace back and forth, trying to stifle his amusement.

Bruce spoke up. "Well, honestly, if the world _were_ ending, or someone _were_ dying, he would already know about it, and be on top of it." He shrugged. "The fact that none of that is happening, is probably why he isn't picking up."

"Or maybe I was already on my way, and thought it a waste of time to talk to you on the phone. I hate that damn thing."

They all spun around to see Nick Fury standing in the doorway, hands on his hips as he glared them down.

Tony looked around the room lazily before settling on the Director. "Did someone around here order a pizza?"

He got a one-eyed glare in return before Fury swept into the room and settled himself on the couch, one leg slung over the other knee. "Ha ha, so very funny. What would we do without that mouth of yours?"

Tony smirked in reply, but otherwise remained silent. Instead he moved to stand by Cara's crib looking down at her as she slept. Barton spoke up instead.

"I assume you're here because of the attack on Emory's safehouse?" A faint wrinkle formed between Fury's eyebrows.

"Well, no, I have a mission for you. It's sensitive in nature, hence me delivering it personally." He uncrossed his legs and leaned forward. "Contrary to popular belief, I do not take a personal interest in every single one of my agents. SHIELD is a large organization. While I'm glad the agent in question is now safe, the handling of that matter has been delegated beneath me."

Three sets of eyes looked at him in shock from across the room. Emory was no run of the mill agent. But apparently she wasn't special enough to gain the Director's personal interest.

"Oh." Tony finally broke the silence before plunging right into the deep end. "I don't suppose you know anything about something called "Project Nightshade", do you?"

Fury rose one eyebrow but didn't say anything in response. He simply stared Tony down until the other man found something else, anything else, to look at. And then he changed the subject.

"Now about the mission I have for you. Agent Barton, Agent Romanoff and her team need you in the Middle East. I expect you on a quinjet out within the hour." Clint nodded in return and headed for the door. Before reaching the threshold he faltered for a second, and then turned back. "Sir? With all that's happened with Emory….should we-"

"Agent Black will be fine without you, Agent Barton. She is safe here within the Tower, and perfectly capable of handling herself. Now go. That's an order." Barton's face hardened in response, but he followed his orders and left.

Once the archer exited the room, Fury turned back to the two scientists and pulled a thick manila folder from his trenchcoat. "I have some new alien technology we salvaged."

He handed the folder over to the two men, waiting a moment as they eagerly flipped through the pages. "I would like for you to take a look through everything here, see what can be converted to SHIELD assets, what your team can use, and what needs to be locked down as too dangerous to have around."

Tony and Bruce nodded along, halfway paying attention as they spoke quietly to each other. "This is of the utmost security, and I need the file back in forty eight hours, so I need you to be quick and thorough."

They nodded again, already making their way to the elevator, headed for the labs downstairs. Fury watched them go before shaking his head and going over to the crib in the corner. "I guess I'll just let myself out then…"

He took a moment while no one was looking to smile down at the sleeping child, even going so far as to reach in and stroke a baby soft cheek with his rough finger.

"Where's a video camera when I need one?" Fury straightened back up, turning towards the door while adjusting his coat. Emory leaned against the frame, arms crossed as she watched the scene unfold. "Otherwise, how is anyone going to believe me when I tell them Nick Fury is going soft?"

She grinned before moving forward to join him in looking down at her daughter.

"She's beautiful." He said it quietly, almost afraid she might in fact have a camera.

"She is." The reply was just as soft.

He sighed, suddenly feeling his age. The years were beginning to weigh down on him. "The attackers, I'm not sure what they were." She stiffened. "I can't tell if they were human, or something else."

She shook her head. Something was happening, someone was coming for her. She just didn't know who, and apparently neither did he.


	4. Suspicious Spies

She was clawing her way through more mist, trying to escape this damn dream. Every night. Every night someone pulled her in, and every night it got harder and harder to get back out. And still, no one showed. It was her, and the mists.

Emory took in a deep breath, trying to settle her emotions. Sleep deprivation was starting to get to her. Deep breaths, in and out. Find the chink in the armor. Minutes passed, and she was still stuck there.

Suddenly, a baby's cry broke through the silence. _Cara._ If the outside world was leaking in, the wall were thin somewhere. She took a step towards the sound of her daughter's cry, and then another, until she was flat out running.

One minute she was running, and the next, falling out of bed. She was out. Emory took a moment to catch her breath, leaned up against the frame in the floor. Cara cried out again through the baby monitor, still upset.

Emory stood slowly, reluctant. She needed some sleep. _Real_ sleep. But her daughter needed her more.

The darkness in the corner of her room shifted inward for a moment as a dark figure slipped back to the dreamscape.

When Bruce walked into the kitchen, the first thing he saw was a mass of wild, unkempt curls tumbling across the counter. The owner of said curls had her forehead on the counter, arms hanging limp at her side.

A cup of coffee sat next to her. It was obvious that the drink had been cold for a while, meaning Emory had been here for hours.

Bruce looked around the room. Children's toys lay scattered about, along with dirty clothes and towels. One cat stretched out on the floor in front of a large window, soaking up the late fall sunlight. The other curled up next to Cara on a quilt. Both were sleeping.

The little family had been in the tower for two months now, and having an infant around was stressful for everyone. Emory especially. Tony was at wit's end with the cats and the baby stuff everywhere, but they had nowhere else to go, not that was as safe as here.

He slid onto the stool next to her, perching his head on both hands. "Still not sleeping well?"

The mass of hair shifted as she turned to look at him, red eyes glaring up at him. "No." She buried her head back in her arms.

Bruce felt the corner of his mouth tug up at the behaviour. She was not a morning person. "Do you want to talk about it?"

This time she didn't bother to turn towards him, so the reply came out muffled. "No." The tug became a full out grin. "You know Kyle comes back tonight right? Clint and Natasha too."

"Mm."

"Am I going to get more than one syllable out of you at a time, Em, or are you pretending to be a caveman today?" She mustered enough energy to raise an arm, but only so she could flip him the bird.

"Oh so now we're using hand gestures. Nice. I really appreciate the sentiment."

With a huff, the mass of curls shot up as Emory finally raised her head. "Do you have any particular reason you are being so irritating, or are you just feeling suicidal? Because, really, between Cara not sleeping and these stupid dreams, I can't get enough sleep to function!"

A twinge of concern sprang through his gut. "Dreams? Are you having nightmares, Em?" He asked, putting all teasing aside. She stiffened beside him, and a strange expression passed over her face, but it disappeared before he could catch it.

"What? No, it's nothing." She flustered before turning away to run shaky hands through her matted hair. "At least, nothing I can't handle. I'll manage."

Bruce laid a gentle hand on her shoulder; she relaxed into it and turned back around. "You don't have to do anything alone. If you're having nightmares, you should get some help. You're obviously exhausted."

He pushed her back towards the suites. "Go take a nap, I've got the baby for now. Get some sleep, relax today, and Kyle will be back tonight. That should make things easier."

She nodded in silence and trudged through the open archway, looking as though she were already asleep.

He sighed as she disappeared down the hall. This was hard for her. Two months, and still not a whiff of who had attacked her. They had chased down every name they could think of, turned over every rock they came across, and still had no leads.

Tony even asked Emory if she knew anything about "Project Nightshade". Of course, she played dumb. Bruce suspected that she knew something about it, she had been too evasive not to, but the woman was a rock.

If she didn't want to talk, she wasn't going to. She would open up when and only if she were ready to. For now… he sighed and turned back to Cara sprawled out on a quilt, her small chest rising and falling with every breath.

For now, they chased down the leads they had, and kept this little family safe. Either something would break, or the fuss would die down. Bruce wasn't too worried about it. It did no good to stress over something he couldn't change, not with his condition. Frustration could get...ugly.

He spent an hour sipping and coffee and perusing the latest in nanotech before Cara began to stir. She began a low whimper that two months of experience told Bruce that she needed a change, so he reached down to scoop her up.

After a quick stop at the changing station, he headed to the elevator. "How about we go see who's down in the gym, yeah?" She smiled up at him. "You don't even know what I'm saying. You just like my voice, and I love that smile, so I'll just keep on talking to you."

"Uh….Dr. Banner? Who are you talking to?" Bruce turned around in surprise. Few people had authorization to be on this floor, and he didn't like surprises. The small spike of anxiety in his gut faded as he took in the tall blonde across the hall.

"Steve! I haven't seen you in months! How is everything?" The man across from him smiled, tugging at the towel hanging from his neck. That smile grew larger when he realized that Bruce was holding Cara.

"Is that a baby?" He surged forward, Banner's questions forgotten. All his attention was on the little girl in front of him. "Hello there! Who do you belong to?"

While he asked the child the question, Steve glanced up to Bruce while he asked it. "Someone attacked one of SHIELD's agents, and she is staying in the Tower until further notice."

He bounced Cara up and swiveled her around to get a better look at the other man. "This little bundle, my goddaughter Cara, came with her, along with a pair of hell-raising cats."

Without any more discussion Steve snatched the baby up, cuddling her close to his chest. His bright blue eyes sparkled in delight. "You mean she _lives_ here? _With us_?!"

Bruce stared back. "Uh...yeah. Steve, I didn't know you liked babies." It was a little disconcerting, seeing this tall rugged man go crazy over a tiny human. And also hilarious. He pulled his phone out with as much subtlety as he could manage and began recording.

Oblivious to Bruce, the patriotic symbol of their country melted over a pair of big green eyes and a shy giggle. This was gold. He wondered how much he could sell this to Tony for. This was worth at least a 100 hours in his lab uninterrupted.

He followed the pair back up to the living quarters, capturing every embarrassing moment of Steve baby talking, cuddling, and making a general fool of himself over Cara. Pure gold.

Steve stopped short as they approached the living room, but it wasn't until Bruce came up next to him that he realized why. They had guests. Or rather, old comrades and new friends.

"Nat!" Steve rushed into the room, baby in his arms forgotten. "Did you just get back?"

The redhead looked up from the papers she was perusing with the others and then did a quick doubletake.

"Steve...are you holding a baby?"

A large man at the left her spoke up then. "I would like to add on to her question by asking: Are you holding _my_ baby?"

The blonde looked down at the child in his arms, and then back up at the muscular soldier across the room. Red creeped up his neck and tinged his ears before he extended Cara out to who was apparently her father.

"I love babies. I kind of scooped her up from Bruce and I didn't realize she belonged to you." The words came out in a rush, Steve desperate to fix the awkward situation before it escalated.

The soldier stared at him, broken nose and scarred face, silent and unforgiving. Until a giant smile cracked that rocky face, and then he was laughing, big booming laughs that shook the walls.

Steve stared back, still holding Cara out like a sacrifice to a god. The soldier gladly took her, cuddling the baby to his chest. "It's all good man. I'm Kyle Black, Cara's father."

He extended the hand not holding his daughter out in a silent truce. Steve gladly took it. "Steve Rogers. It's nice to meet you, especially if it means that your girl is going to be here all the time too."

Kyle gave a long-suffering sigh, draping an arm across his eyes like a tragic Greek statue. "They never love me for me, only what I can give them." Cara reached up and patted his face, interrupting the monologue and causing him to grin again. "Not an appreciator of drama I see."

Natasha rolled her eyes and moved back to the papers on the table. She muttered, "Maybe the kid has some sense then."

Steve shared a look with Bruce. Something was wrong there. This was not the fast-quipping super spy they knew and loved.

Bruce stepped in to help. "Hey Kyle, Em is asleep in the suite if you want to go surprise her. I know she's been stressing without you." Kyle shared a long look with him before nodding and heading for the door.

"A nap sounds like a great idea anyways, don't you think you scamp?" Cara giggled as he chucked a large finger under her chin.

As soon as he cleared the room Nat gave a sigh of relief. Both men looked at her in question. She stayed silent for a moment before finally saying, "Something is wrong. Those people are not who they say they are."


	5. Tension

**Hi guys! I know, I know, it's been so long...but! I give you not one, but two chapters! And then only one or two chapters before we go back to previous content that will make writing go by so much faster. Anyways, in the words of my favorite Sherlock… "Not dead."**

Clint dropped into the middle of the living room from the rafters. "Nat, we've been through this. There's nothing wrong with Agents Black."

Steve blinked slowly at the abrupt arrival, while Bruce jumped back in surprise. A flash of green ran across his face before he regained control. "Barton, what the hell?! I've told you not to do that!"

Clint had the good grace to look sheepish before turning back to Natasha. "Moving on. Repeat after me: 'There is nothing wrong with Agents Black. My past is making me more suspicious than necessary.'"

She spent a long moment staring back at the archer, dark eyes drilling into his. Once that moment was over, she allowed a long, slow blink before turning on her heel and leaving the room.

Bruce cleared his throat. "So…" He drew the word out, rubbing his neck with one hand. "Isn't it her _job_ to be suspicious of everyone? You know, the whole spy thing?"

If Bruce had ever wondered before what it would be like to be on the receiving end of a spy's stare, he now knew. Just as Natasha before, Clint allowed a long blink before an abrupt exit.

Steve cleared his throat, uncomfortable in the new tension in the room. "Right, well. It was good to see you Bruce." And with that, he too left the room, leaving Bruce standing alone to wonder what the hell was going on in this tower.

"Mr. Stark, for the last time, I don't know what "Project Nightshade" is." Maria Hill kept her back to him, staring out the window at the New York skyline. "And even if I did, I'm not authorized to share that information with you."

Tony read between the lines: Yes, this is a real thing, but I can't say anything about it. Keep digging. Go over my head.

"Well Maria, who do I need to talk to instead? Fury? Coulson?" Hill gave a start at that name. "Oh what, you didn't think I would find out? Do you know how much digging I've been doing lately? So tell me. Who do I talk to, if not you?"

Hill stuttered for a moment, at a loss for words. "You can talk to me, Stark." The strong voice rang out from behind.

Tony turned to take a look at the often absent director. "Fury. You've been avoiding me."

Fury grunted before turning out of the office. Tony followed down the hallway. "Correction. I've been busy. Busy tracking down leads, busy fixing all your mistakes, and most importantly, busy avoiding you."

Stark snorted in amusement, unable to keep the sound in. "Right. Do anything useful then?"

Fury stopped in front of a nondescript door. "Yes."

Without any further explanation, he pushed the door open and stepped through, leaving Tony behind to gape at the entryway.

With a sigh he followed suit, muttering underneath his breath. "Why does the man have to be so damned dramatic?"

He was so distracted with his muttering that he almost missed everything happening around him. That is, until those happenings bumped into him in the chaos he so successfully drowned out.

The agent brushed past him, paying no mind, but it was enough to draw Tony out of his thoughts and back into the real world, which had gotten very, very busy.

Large screens filled the room, all showing different countries and locations, following people of interest, and mapping out likely hotspots for activity. People rushed here and there, all intent on their own small goals without paying mind to the other activities around them.

Fury had reached the center of the room and was standing quite dramatically -of course- hands on hips in obvious pride of whatever this was. _What was this?_

He didn't realize he had framed the question out loud until Fury answered. "This is what I've been doing. Pretty fucking _useful,_ I think." He walked forward to the monitors. "Dozens of bodies, hundreds of cameras, thousands of leads, all dedicated to find out what happened with Agent Black."

Tony scoffed. "All this for one agent?"

Fury gave him a long side eye glance (with the side that had the eye, of course) before answering. "No, not for one agent. For all the agents. We have a mole. That's the only way they knew where she was, knew when to go after her, knew where her safe house was."

He turned his back to study the screens once more. "This is for all of them. If I can't keep my people safe, what kind of leader am I?"

"Fury you know you are a damned good leader. A little hyper-aggressive sometimes, sure, a pain in the ass as well, but still- a damned good leader." He laid a hand on the Director's shoulder.

Fury let it sit for a moment, long enough to receive the sentiment, before brusquely shaking it off and sweeping from the room, leaving Tony to stare at all the screens.

Of course, Tony was an opportunist as well. He glanced to either side, checking that no one paid him any mind, before placing a small disk behind a server. Then he too, left the chaos behind.

"You know we can't stay here."

Emory looked up at Kyle, standing over the couch while juggling her daughter. "Where else do you suggest we go? This is the safest place on Earth for us."

His face darkened. "Maybe," he said as he sat beside her, "it is time to leave Midgard behind. If we stay, we risk discovery. Will these new friends stand by you when they realize all the lies you have fed them?"

She sighed, pushing her head back against the cushions. "And where else would you suggest we go, Audolf? Asgard, looked upon with pity and suspicion?" She swept a hand across the room. "At least here there are no stares. No questions."

"Yet." His reply was short, but full of meaning. Once they inevitably found out….but she refused to think about that for now.

"So where, Vanaheim? That worked out so well last time."

"We could go back to your grandmother."

She snorted in angry amusement. "Oh yes, the one who wanted nothing to do with me until I showed the slightest semblance of magic? The one who was so jealous of me for my husband, she tried to have me killed? She _exiled_ us! You think she will take us back now?"

He shrugged a single shoulder, not really committing to the action. "There's Cara now. That will interest her." Emory shot up from the couch, spinning to face him. "For all we know, she's the one trying to chase us down!"

"You know as well as I do, that's not her style. She would have just sucked us through a portal to stand before her throne in all her power and glory, aiming to intimidate and impress."

A corner of Emory's mouth rose at the thought. That's exactly what her grandmother would do. Had done, in the past. No need to change something that's worked so well in the past.

"Alright, so it's not her. But there are so many other players who could want us, both human and otherwise. Best to stay here, where it's at least remotely safe."

"Until they find out."

She let out a slow breath. "I think they will stand by me, even once they know."

"All of it?"

She looked down at him, eyes hooded by dark curls. "They can never know all of it."

"Alright folks, we've got ourselves a mission!"

Several pairs of scowling eyes looked up from their coffee long enough to evaluate the bubbling energy coming off of Tony Stark before lowering once more. No one said a word.

"Really guys? No excitement? I went through a lot to get this information from SHIELD without getting caught, and you don't even want to appreciate it?"

Emory looked up again. "Are you sure that's what you want to tell me Stark? That you're stealing information from my employer?"

He gave her a wide grin before replying, " I do when it has to do with what happened to you. I have a lead."

She was on her feet before he finished his sentence. "What have you heard?" Around them everyone else had perked up as well, desperate for new intel.

His smile deepened with glee and a hint of mischief. "Well such effort surely cost me, so shouldn't it cost you as well? Oof!" He wasn't able to finish his statement, what with Emory's arm across his throat and his back against the wall. After a few seconds of sputtering, she lifted the pressure.

"Not one for games today?" The voice came out in a wheeze, raspy from his now bruised vocal cords. She backed away, allowing him to straighten his suit jacket and adjust his tie. "Fine. I'll tell you. The strongest lead is in Russia."

"Russia?" Natasha slipped from the shadows she lingered in so often. "What's in Russia?"

Tony gave her a hard look. "You know what's in Russia."


	6. Cold Encounters

It was fucking cold.

That had been the mood for the past twelve days. Cold outside, cold inside, and cold between the two women as they watched this tiny hellhole in the bowels of Russia together.

Twelve days, and still no sign of what they were looking for. The Red Room, or their operatives. Any lead that could take them closer to finding out who had attacked Emory and her daughter months ago.

The red head across the room had not spoken to her since they arrived. She chose instead to stare out the window or leave altogether, roaming the streets, searching, but never actually spoke.

Emory could deal with that. She had had to fight to go. No matter that she had picked up the trail, no matter that it was _her_ daughter threatened in all this. No. Because it was the Red Room, Natasha Romanoff ran the show, and Natasha Romanoff hated her guts.

Emory had no real answers for why that was, but she suspected that it was because Natasha didn't trust her. The Black Widow was smarter than most, and she recognized subterfuge. She knew when people were keeping secrets.

And Emory was keeping secrets. Plenty of them. Dark ones, ones that would tear away the friends she had found here on Earth. Clint, especially.

A splash of green smoke flashed before her eyes for a moment, and then was gone. She shook her head to clear it, pushing away the memory, or vision, or whatever the hell it was. The visions, the dreams, the feeling of constant eyes on herhad been growing more and more prevalent the past few months. Emory didn't know what to think about it. Or how it tied in with what was happening here in the present.

The motion caught Natasha's eye, drawing her attention. A raised eyebrow over crossed arms was all the question she got, but it Emory could imagine. _Finally breaking? Bored? Do you need to be somewhere else?_

She smiled imagining the questions in Nat's snarkiest voice, the one she reserved for congressmen and Stark. And her. Of course, the spy caught the smile as well, and raised eyebrow turned to slight frown. _Great, now she thinks I'm laughing at her._

Emory had done her best to make nice with the Russian. She was Clint's partner, after all. Had been for years. To an extent, Emory could even empathize with how it must feel, to have some other person waltz in and become close friends with your partner in a matter of days.

She understood the anger, the jealousy. With Natasha, there was also a healthy dose of suspicion. Clint Barton didn't make friends with ease. He was a _spy._ And yet with Emory, he had.

Except, that's exactly what happened. Emory hadn't even done anything to spur their relationship. It happened. It was...easy. No explaining that to the other woman though.

She jumped up from behind the monitors, cameras set in probable hotspots, and took the time to stretch out her small frame. Of course, Natasha rose with her, graceful as ever.

"I think I need some air. Gonna walk the paces, see what's out there," she said as she shrugged a thick parka over the rest of her layers.

"Alright. Try not to get killed." Emory froze from pulling on her fur-lined boots to turn and look at the other woman. She actually seemed….genuine when she said it. Progress, maybe?

She nodded before returning her attention to the shoes. "Need anything while I'm out?"

"I could use some vodka, maybe a lead if you have time." Concern and now a quip? What the hell?

She waved halfway through the door of the cheap motel room, making her way down the hallway to the entrance. A lead would be nice right around now.

Emory braced herself against the stark cold wind as she shouldered through the door and waded through the ankle thick snow to the street before her.

Why Russia? Why Russia in the _winter_? Oh well. Anything to track these bastards down. Shoving her gloved hands in her pockets, she started the trek to the local watering hole, the best place to hear things. Plus, she could actually bring back some vodka. Let's see what the cold spy thought of _that_.

She trudged through the drifts, blending in with the locals as best she could. They moved back and forth between shops, going about their normal business. It was hard to imagine that this was the central hub for Russia's sex trafficking business.

According to her leads, it was also the location of the reincarnated Red Room, a brutal training program for young girls. The program that turned children into assets trained to lie, seduce, and kill.

This was one of their best bets on who tried to attack her and her daughter. They had exhausted most other sources, leads, and ideas months ago. Emory and Cara had permanently moved into the Tower as a safety precaution, and every mission Emory took related to finding out who was after them.

Tony hadn't been too happy to hear about the cats moving in for good, and Fury had been even less pleased to know that she wasn't available for missions. But she had gotten her way. That was another reason Natasha didn't like her.

She had her own agenda. She kept secrets. She had waltzed in from nowhere and become an all star of SHIELD in a matter of months, become fast friends with Clint Barton within hours of meeting him. And Emory knew that she didn't have a past on paper. That was the most damning thing of all in Black Widow's eyes. Everyone had a past.

As Emory approached the small hut that passed for a pub in this squalid place, she cleared her head. Time to concentrate. Walking through the doors, she caught two men bristle from the corner of her eye.

Pretending not to notice, she continued to the thick slab of wood at the end of the room that was the bar. A small man stood behind it, wiping out a dirty glass with an even filthier rag.

He set both down as she approached. "Closed today." He looked back to the door she had walked through. "Come back tomorrow."

Emory smiled, a little to woo the man across from her, and a little because it looked like they were finally going to see some action. She brushed a hand across the distress signal set into her jacket and took a step forward. Now to see about gathering some information until Natasha got here.

"I just want a drink is all," she replied back in perfect Russian. She flashed her most dazzling smile and took one more step, coming into contact with the splinter-ridden wood. "Besides, the door isn't locked. Surely that means you are open."

Behind her the lock pinged closed, barely audible. She pretended not to notice that before turning her smile to the group of men huddled by the fire. "You boys wouldn't mind a little company, would you? I just want a drink."

The men chuckled together at the silly little girl in front of them. She didn't know any better. Easy picking. One of them stepped away from the group and grabbed her by the arm, pulling her towards them.

"We would very much like your company, little one. In fact, I'm sure several men would enjoy your company, for a very fine price." _Damn. S_ ex traffickers, not Red Room operatives. Too late now.

She let some false worry cross her face for a moment, long enough to step inside the larger man's range. Long enough for him to let his guard down.

At that second she snapped up with a fist, breaking his nose and shoving him into the fire. Before the others could react, she ghosted between two more men and behind them, sliding thin blades between ribs and into hearts.

By that time the last three men had guns out, and the bartender had fled through the back. The closest to her got off one shot before she had his hand in hers, pulling him forward while twisting the arm behind his back. He dropped the gun.

The other two sent out a barrage of bullets, several catching their comrade in the chest as Emory used him as a shield. She pushed him forward and crashing into the others, picking up the gun and finishing off the rest.

A quick glance around the room showed no one else. The bartender had disappeared, leaving the back door to a storage room ajar.

She turned back to reach for her phone and froze as a slow clap started up from the back room. Slowly, carefully, she turned back around as a tall, lithe man walked through the door, bringing his hands together in a false salute.

"Ah Nightshade. We've been expecting you." An electric jolt went through her, and then everything went dark.

The more time Natasha spent with Emory Black, the more she became convinced, something was off with that woman. There was something she was hiding.

No one waltzed into SHIELD without a past, yet this woman did. She had no past, no ledger. No resume. And yet a skilled operative fell into SHIELD with ease, gaining Fury's good graces in a matter of weeks. She even had Clint fooled.

Nat watched from the corner of her eye as Emory sat in front of the monitors, staring forward. She was withdrawing again. It was unnerving, the trancelike states the other agent could slip into when she thought no one was looking.

After a short amount of time, she snapped back into reality and shook her head, like she was clearing cobwebs. Black jumped up, talking about needing air, and headed towards the door. Natasha murmured something noncommittal as she went.

"Need anything while I'm out?"

Natasha sighed. It wouldn't hurt to actually talk to her partner for this mission. "Yeah, some vodka and maybe a lead while you're at it."

Emory cracked a smile at that and headed out the door. As soon as the other woman passed the threshold and the door clicked shut, Nat jumped up from the window to take her place in front of the screens.

Her eyes tracked the agent as she made her way down the snowy street. Black moved at a good clip through the cold air, not stopping to speak to anyone else outdoors. Instead, she moved straight for the bar.

It was a solid strategy. The best place to hear anything would be the watering hole. Plus, she _had_ asked for vodka.

The other agent disappeared into the doorway in a blur of black and white. Everything seemed quiet today, like every other day. Until Emory's distress signal went off.

Nat jumped up, throwing together equipment and stamping into boots, out the door in under a minute. She flew down the street, upending farmwives and knocking aside stands in her rush to get to the tavern.

Three minutes. That's all it took to get there. And by then, it was too late. The bar was empty, save for the dead men in front of the fire. _She went down with a fight at least._

Scratch that. The bar was _almost_ empty. A small sniveling man hid behind the bar, head between his knees. She reached down and yanked him up, pressing him against a wall with her blade under his chin. "Talk."

What she got back was a confusing blend of Russian, Polish, and English, but from what she could tell, it was a setup. They knew Emory was here, and had laid a trap. And succeeded. The rat couldn't tell her who it was, or where they were going. In fact, the only other intelligible thing she got out of him was "Nightshade". Again.

A few minutes later, she left the tavern in flames, cleaning the bartender's blood from her knife. Back at the room, she pulled out her iPad to get a good look at Emory's tracking device. Still moving along at a pretty good clip, still headed east.

Natasha figured she had time to make a few phone calls.

 **There you have it. Two new chapters, progress made. I'm picking up a contract in St. Louis next week, so I'm not sure how busy I'll be, but I'll keep working at this, promise. Thanks for being so loyal friends, and as always I appreciate reviews.**


	7. Rescue? What Rescue?

For once, Emory wasn't too upset to see herself trapped in the dreamscape. The longer she remained unconscious, the longer she could put off meeting her new friends. They might hold off on torture until she woke up. If she was lucky.

The typical green and black smoke hovered around her, parting when she stepped forward. Not that she went very far this time. There was no point in looking for a way out when she didn't _want_ out.

Instead, she settled down on the ground to wait, brushing aside pebbles to sit cross-legged in the mists. She drew a deep breath in, found her center, and then began to meditate.

There was no telling how long she sat like that, time had no meaning on this plane. Soon, soft whispers broke through her concentration. That in itself was odd. The dreamscape was a silent place.

She cracked an eye open to look around her. Nothing seemed different, and the whispers disappeared. She closed it once more. The whispers rushed back in.

This time she opened both eyes and stood, twirling in a circle to look all around her. "Show yourself! I know you're there, you might as well stand before me." The tiny spy crossed her arms in defiance. "It's not like I can hurt you here. It's _your_ dreamscape, after all."

She sat back down on the ground, then flopped backwards to sprawl, arms above her. "You keep bringing me here," she called out. "Yet you never say anything, and never show yourself. Until today, when all you do is whisper nonsense, and that's more annoying than useful!"

She closed her eyes again, speaking to no one in particular. "I wouldn't mind the company, you know. All I've got waiting for me out there is torture and pain."

Still silence. She sighed. "If I didn't know any better, I would say you are keeping me here night after night to drive me crazy. Is this your idea of a joke?" She propped back up on her arms, letting her hair hang down behind her. Still no reply.

"Fine, be that way. But I warn you that you woul-" She cut short as a jolting pain ripped through her. "Oh damn. I guess they got tired of waiting for me to wake up."

With that, she blinked out of existence.

There was no way out of this one. Not by herself. Pain shot through her head, spearing through her temples into the core of her brain. Almost against her will, Emory let out a groan as the headache gripped her.

"Well, it seems our guest is awake." She breathed through her nose, trying to stay awake. Little by little, her eyes opened to tight slits. Another groan escaped as bright light barraged her. This wasn't helping the headache any.

"Well," she managed to grunt out between gasps, "It does seem you helped that along."

In reply, another jolt of energy tore through her. She sucked air in through her teeth at the pain.

They gave her a moment's respite after that, and Emory used that time to gather her bearings.

A bright light beat down from above, so that she couldn't see any of her surroundings. Cold steel shackles circled her wrists, keeping her on her tiptoes as she hung from the ceiling. Her armor and protective layers stripped away, she was bare.

Other than an ache from the electricity, and the awful headache, she didn't have any injuries. Yet.

"Now." Seemed the respite was over. "We have been following your career for some time, Agent Black. You and your powers are quite...peculiar." Although she could not see the speaker, the voice came out in clipped German tones. Odd, for a compound in the heartland of Russia.

She took in a deep breath, steeling herself. "I have no idea what you're talking about." She expected the pain, but that made it no less unpleasant.

"I belive that you do, Nightshade," the voice replied, "And you are going to remain our guest until you tell us how you received your abilities. Then, and only then, will I grant you death."

She smirked. The agent doubted that. "Nope. No clue what you are going on about. You must have the wrong spy." This time the pain was worse, eliciting another grunt from her.

Her interrogator ignored the pithy reply, continuing on. "Was it some sort of serum, like Captain Rogers? Radiation, like Dr. Banner?" The voice moved around her as the owner circled like a shark that smelled blood. "It doesn't appear to be technology, but that means nothing. An Inhuman?"

"It could be magic. I _am_ a Slytherin you know. Clint swears up and down I'm a Hufflepuff but he's crazy, what does he know?" She stopped short as more energy surged through her.

"We will break you of that smart mouth before you know it. Let's see how you feel after some time alone in the dark." A door clanked shut, and all the lights died out, leaving her in pitch black.

She spent several minutes hanging there, silent, listening. She needed to make sure she was alone. Once she was certain, she began swinging on the balls of her feet.

After some time, she used the momentum to bring her feet above her head, wrapping them around the chains like an aerial dancer.

Hands freed from the strain of gravity, she pulled a pin from her hair. They may have searched her, but there was no way anyone would get everything out of her thick mane.

Gripping the pin between her teeth, she began working the shackles around her wrists. Easier said than done in the pitch dark, hanging upside down, hair in her face.

After about fifteen minutes, she took a break, working the muscles in her shoulders as much as she could. Then she started again. Another thirty went by with no luck.

Anxiety built in her stomach as the minutes ticked by. They would be coming back before too long, she needed to be out of here by then. She let out a cry of dismay as the pin fell from her mouth to the ground.

Out of nowhere, a pair of gentle hands encircled her wrists. Magic surged through the shackles, releasing the locks and freeing her. She dropped down to the ground and stumbled as the effects of hanging upside down for an hour caught up to her.

Strong arms caught her before she hit the ground and held her up until she regained her equilibrium. "Who are you?" She mumbled, still woozy.

 _An ally,_ an ambiguous voice in her head responded. At that moment, alarms blared throughout the compound. Shouts rang out and moved away from their location. _Your team is here and drew away the door guards. Take a left and follow that hallway, you should meet up with them there._

The door cracked open, letting in a sliver of light. In the shadows Emory could make out the outline of a man. "Thanks, I guess. Do I get to know anything else about you?"

The figure faded into the shadows, slipping away. _Go…_ The voice said before disappearing completely.

The captive spy stared at the now empty shadows before coming back to herself. There was no time to lose, she needed to get out of here. As she left the dark room, the man stepped back out of the shadows to watch her leave, green eyes burning in the dark.

Shrill sirens echoed through the empty halls as she made her way left, following her mystery saviour's instructions. A single stark hallway loomed in front of her, devoid of any other life. That was a good thing, seeing as she had no weapons and didn't want to out herself as non-human. She proceeded forward, stopping at intersections to check for danger. No one challenged her.

Her luck held out until she reached the end of the corridor. Turning the corner she ran straight into a tall man, the lower half of his face covered by a mask. Dark brown hair tumbled around his shoulders and blank eyes peered down at her.

The most noticeable part of him, though, was his metal arm. Emory got first hand knowledge of that appendage rather soon enough. She struggled against the wall, cold metal hand gripping her throat.

She clawed at the unforgiving arm, prying at the fingers blocking off blood from her brain as darkness creeped in around her. She struggled to no avail. There was no give in his hand, he meant to kill her.

As she was about to lose consciousness, instinct kicked in. If she had to choose between people knowing about Nightshade, and dying, she chose life. She could deal with the fallout later. Chains burst from the wall behind the strange warrior, wrapping around his arms and jerking him back away from her bruised throat.

Emory took a deep gasp in as blood rushed back into her brain and air back into her lungs. She allowed her conjured chains to hold her opponent while she recuperated. A hand reached up to finger at the swelling marks and she winced. "That wasn't very nice of you," she said to the man, watching as he struggled against his bonds with a crazed look in his eyes.

She conjured a dagger from thin air, walking forward to end him. Something in his eyes stopped her short. She reached forward with her free hand to touch his temple and delved into his mind. The mess inside made her recoil back in shock.

"I'm going to let you live," she told the now still warrior. "I know your actions are not of your choosing." With that, she walked back down the hallway, leaving him hanging on the wall.

As she journeyed further down the corridor, the sounds of a fierce battle drifted towards her. Where there was battle, she would most likely find her allies.

Turning a final corner, she came upon Black Widow and Hawkeye back to back, surrounded by enemies. Of course, they didn't seem too worried. The Russians were dropping like flies and the ones remaining seemed to be losing heart.

Emory grabbed up a gun from a fallen soldier and started picking off the outliers, evening the odds a little bit more.

Seeing that another marksman was shooting from the shadows, the remaining enemies turned tail and ran from the room. Clint's face fell in disappointment as he lowered his bow. "Aw come on Em, what's the point in a rescue if you rescue us instead?"

The smaller agent snorted in response. "It seemed like you had it under control. I sped things along." She headed for the opposite door. "We need to leave. Now. The Winter Soldier is in the building."

Her teammates' faces grew pale. The Winter Soldier was a legend, the boogieman of the intelligence community. "Are you sure?" Nat queried.

Emory spared her a glance as they jogged down the hallway. "Tall, dark, metal arm? Yeah I'm pretty sure. I survived him once but I'm not looking forward to Round Two if it's all the same to you."

Clint stared at her in disbelief. "You...took on the Winter Soldier? Without a scratch on you?"

Whatever answer she might have given him choked in her throat as they burst into an open courtyard filled with soldiers. All with their guns pointed at the team.

A tall, pale-haired man stepped forward, clapping his hands in condescension. His German accent told Emory who he was. "Well, well Nightshade, you have exceeded expectations." Natasha started at the name.

"You escaped from your chains, took Winter Soldier out of commission, and then fought your way out. Beautiful. And look," he glanced at her teammates in obvious glee. "You even brought me gifts."

He looked towards Black Widow. " _Natalia,_ it's been too long. Welcome home, my dear." Natasha let out a long stream of Russian, none of it complementary.

He gave her a small smile and continued. "And Clint Barton, the circus freak. I'm sure we will find a place for you as well." The archer's face darkened as he reached up to nock an arrow.

Emory let out a small chuckle, interrupting the man's self-important monologue. He glared at her, fury taking over his thin face. "And what do you find so amusing, Nightshade?"

She smirked. No secret was worth her friends' lives, especially when she put them in danger. Decision made, she raised one hand. Darkness covered the room, cutting the soldiers off from their leader. Gunshots rang out to bounce against the barrier she erected.

Alone, the man didn't seem so sure. The tiny woman allowed the smirk to grow into a full smile, showing all her teeth in a dangerous snarl. Raising the other hand, she gripped his neck with her energy and lifted him from the ground. His toes stretched to keep him connected to the floor below.

"Son of a bitch!" The exclamation came from Clint as he watched the display, jaw hanging slack at Emory's show of abilities. Natasha didn't look surprised in the least. Constant suspicion did come with its perks, after all.

Emory didn't pay them any mind. There would be hell to pay later, but for now she needed to end this before anyone else showed up. With a blink she opened a gate within the barrier holding back the soldiers, letting loose a beast. Screams rose up as a roar tore through the area.

Soon, all was quiet and she released the elemental back to its plane. Only their leader remained. His breath came in short gasps, eyes bulging out in terror as her real powers became evident.

The sorceress leveled a look of pure fury at him, and channeled that anger. This man had put her daughter in danger, had forced her to reveal secrets better left buried. He deserved to die. "There is no replicating my power, fool, for I am not of this Earth. You should not have tampered with what you do not understand."

She squeezed, watching the air leave the man's lungs, bit by bit. She would make it hurt.

"Em! Enough!" The shout broke through her rage, and she released her grip. The pitiful man dropped to the ground, shuddering and gasping for breath. She turned to Clint in silence, looking to him for clarification. He stared back in disbelief, awed by her sheer power and ruthlessness.

Natasha spoke up for him. "We can use him for information. Don't get carried away." Respect, more than anything, shone through on her face. Emory cleared her mind, stepping away from the power to come back to the present.

"Fine. We need to leave, before Winter Soldier escapes the chains I left him in." With another wave of her hand, their new captive raised from the ground, hovering. He came behind them as they ran.

All too soon, the quinjet came into sight, and they were free. After securing the prisoner, Emory curled up across two seats. She had not said a word, and soon slipped into unconsciousness. Tomorrow loomed ahead, but for now, she needed rest.

 **Here's a nice juicy chapter for you! And even better news, we are now back into old content, content that only needs to be edited to fit the new plot, so those should churn out with few problems. I really enjoyed writing this one, actually. The torture and escape scene were actually part of a really weird dream, but hey, I take inspiration where I can. Happy reading friends, and feel free to review. I would love to know your thoughts on Emory and my character development.**


	8. Lay Low

The mists flowed around her. Again. This was getting old. Emory had a feeling that whoever had helped her in Russia was also behind these dreams. She called out, "Hello?"

In an instant the light turned a green hue, surrounding her in emerald tinted swirls. _Emory…_ A voice whispered at the edge of her hearing, so familiar and yet so strange. Her eyebrows creased together into a frown as she sank deep into thought.

Whose voice was that?

 _Emory, you haven't forgotten me so soon have you? Forgotten all that we had, all that we still have?_ Her eyes shot back up, widening in shock and fear. No, it couldn't be. She closed her eyes and sank to her knees, tears streaming down her face as she wept in grief and pain again.

 _He's dead, and there is no bringing him back. He's dead, and I don't want him back! This is all a cruel trick. This is a lie!_ The voice answered, _Is it?_

She hadn't realized she had shouted that last bit out. It made no difference. Someone was trying to get under her skin, trying to get a rise from her. They were digging up the bittersweet pain that came with him. That's all there was to it. She turned away, trying to force herself awake.

Someone grabbed her arm and spun her around again. She found herself gazing into emerald green eyes, full of anger and pleading, surrounded by unkempt black curls falling over a pale, sculpted face. "Emory, please. This isn't a trick, I promise. Look at me!"

And she did. She looked over and over at the face she had committed to memory, but she still didn't quite believe. She almost didn't _want_ to believe, not and let all that pain back in. She reached up a hesitant hand, which he clasped with his own, bringing it up to his chest. A beating heart pounded underneath her palm.

She whispered, "But you're dead….he told me, he wouldn't lie to me. He promised! You're dead, and this is a dream!" She spun away as she shouted her grief, her rage, her bitterness, which then turned into quiet sobs, her shoulders heaving, not a sound coming out. Two hands rested on her shoulders, stilling her tears. "He was wrong, Emory. He was wrong, and I am alive. And I want you back! You are mine..."

She looked at his face again, a little thinner and more haggard, but still his. She shook her head, anger replacing grief. "No, no I am not! I am not a possession. I am not a toy to play with and then throw away, over and over."

She pulled free from his grasp, spinning back to face him. "Go back to whatever hell you crawled out of, because you are not welcome here!" She took a ragged breath in, trying to calm the storm within. "Let me out. I need to leave."

He drew himself up, towering over the smaller woman. "I think not," he answered in a crisp tone. "If you will not come willingly, I will take you by force."

She smiled up at him, but it was not a pleasant smile. "Let me out, or you will never see your daughter. I keep her hidden from your eyes, and you know it."

His face darkened in fury. This woman would defy him? In the same moment, the anger melted away. She was his match, that was certain. "Very well. But I warn you. I _will_ find you. Both of you."

He faded into the mists, and Emory sat up, awake. The cargo bay of the quinjet was empty except for her. This was the best opportunity she would get to escape. Taking a deep breath, she walked into the shadows and disappeared.

The transmission had come through. The mission had gone to shit, but they had all gotten out in one piece. They had captured the leader and brought him in for questioning. Emory was fine. For the most part. Tony stared at the screen, thinking. Before long, he made his decision.

"Jarvis, find me everything on Nightshade. Bust through every wall, burn down every defense, tear SHIELD apart if you have to, but I want every shred of data that has to do with it."

"As you wish sir." The AI got to work in the background. Tony pushed away from his workspace to pace back and forth. She had been living in his tower for months, months! He didn't have a problem with powered individuals, per se. What he did have a problem with was being lied to.

He had asked her if she knew what Nightshade was, and she had lied to his face smooth as you please. Not a flicker to show him her dishonesty. She _was_ a SHIELD agent, but still. He thought that their friendship merited a modicum of honesty.

His thoughts turned to Kyle. It was ridiculous to think he didn't know about her extracurriculars. "Jarvis, give me video feed on the Black suite please."

A small square popped up in the corner of the large screen, playing right in front of where Tony stood. After taking a moment to study the feed, he swore and ran for the door.

The suite was empty. No Kyle, no Cara, no cats. It was if they had never been there. "Jarvis, scan the feeds for the whole tower. Where did they go?"

After a moment, Jarvis responded, "It appears that they disappeared into thin air sir." Tony stopped short at that. "What?"

Back in front of his main screen, Jarvis played back the surveillance cameras to an hour prior. On the screen, Emory stepped from the shadows into the room. Kyle jumped from the bed alert, took one look at her, and began shoving belongings into duffel bags.

She stopped him with a wave of her hand, three bags popping into existence on the bed. After a moment of shock, Kyle strode from the room to retrieve Cara while Emory put the cats into their carrier. Within five minutes, the room was bare. It looked like they had never been there.

Kyle and Emory stood across from each other, Cara between them, staring at one another. An entire conversation seemed to pass between them. Based on what Tony had already seen, he assumed one did. After a long moment of the staring, they stepped into the shadows, disappearing. They were gone.

Tony sighed, slumping back into his chair. What the hell was going on here? There was no point waking the others yet. Plenty of time for that when Clint and Natasha arrived. The billionaire figured that Emory had slipped from the quinjet without either of them noticing. Word of her disappearance could wait a few more hours.

"I didn't figure we needed to watch her every second on the quinjet! Where the hell was she gonna go?" Tony jerked awake as the argument grew louder.

Wiping a hand over his face, he looked around. Sunlight streamed through the window, lighting up the room. He must have fallen asleep waiting for the two spies to return from Russia.

"You saw what she did in Russia! Of course we should have kept eyes on her." Looked like the spy pals were back then. "You told me it was fine to sleep, you had this. And now she's gone!"

They entered the room, glaring at each other. Well, time to get the party started. "Yeah, she's been gone for hours. Came and took hubs and the kid with her. And the mongrels." He flicked a switch and the video feed played back for them to watch. "Figured you would notice when you got here."

Clint stared at the screen in shock, taking in the power his friend held. "She lied to us...all of us."

Tony closed his eyes and sighed. "Yeah she did." Leaning back in his chair, he opened them to stare at the ceiling. "Jarvis, any luck on the Nightshade files?"

"No sir, they do not exist."

"They don't exist because we don't keep them on a mainframe. They stay with me, along with other very sensitive files." Tony turned to the door, taking in the new arrival.

"I figured you would make your way here before too long," he said, too tired for his normal amount of snark.

Fury gave a thin smile and handed him a USB drive. "Project Nightshade."

"You mean Emory," Clint said, the accusation clear. The Director turned to him and nodded. "Yes, I mean Agent Black. She is an asset in more ways than one."

Tony plugged the drive in. The screen lit up with several files, redacted documents, and a photograph of a woman in blackout gear. It was obvious she manipulated a battlefield around her with magic.

Fury's voice rang out. "This is Nightshade. She came onto our radar about two years ago, a little over a month after the London incident. Once aware of our presence, she became an operative of SHIELD. She fronted as a normal agent while also taking on special missions more suited to her….particular skill set."

The three Avengers stared at the screen, taking in the the picture and documents. "Well, I hate to say I told you so…" Natasha's faced twisted in a wry grin. So far as secrets went, she could forgive this one. That didn't stop the spy from enjoying being right.

Clint grimaced. "So this is Emory. _Our_ Emory?" He leaned forward on the table, propping himself up on his arms. "I thought Nightshade was a weapon, or a project, when it's been her all along."

A pained expression crossed the director's face. This was going to hurt the Avengers' relationship with Emory. "Yes, it is. Nightshade was the name she took once she became an operative, and it fits well. Emory Black is an alias. Her name is Emory, but she never gave a last name, and as far as I know she doesn't have one. She's….well, she's not from Earth."

"Well then where the hell is she from?" Tony had stalked his way to the window, leaning his head against the glass to view the skyline. His tense body reflected how everyone else in the room felt. Betrayed, lost, angry. Confused. He turned back to Fury. "How did you know to come here? Who briefed you on Russia?"

The taller man crossed his arms in front of him, at ease in the line of questioning. "Emory did. As soon as she moved locations." He sighed. "She wanted me to pass on a message: 'I'm sorry. I can't explain everything right now, because the chase is not over. Russia was a distraction, and we have to hide. I can't come back until it's safe. I'm sorry.' Cryptic, I know, but that's all I got before she did her disappearing act."

He glanced at the two spies. "I have no idea if or when she will return, but I can't imagine it will be soon. So for now, life goes on. Agent Romanoff, I need you to go to DC and pick up Captain Rogers. I have a mission for you."

 **Whew, ok. I know, I know. Two chapters in one day. And I made a crap ton of juice and I watched Iron Man 3 for fun (and/or research). I've been productive. This is ****IMPORTANT**** so if you don't read my Author's Notes (shame on you), going forward is going to confuse the piss out of you. I am going to say that this chapter took place in April 2014 in the MCU, which means that the mission Fury just sent Cap and Nat on? Oh yeah, cue CA: Winter Soldier.**

 **NOW. We are gonna do a time jump. Say, next chapter will occur some time before Avengers: AOU. I think. If not, I'll warn you before the actual chapter. So, yeah, Em won't be there for the fall of SHIELD or the Ultron BS that Tony starts. I haven't worked all the kinks out yet, but we are moving forward into old content so hopefully it works out soon. Let's say that this chapter wraps up "Part One" of this story.**


	9. Coming Clean, Mostly

**Behold, I still write. I just also happened to start grad school. And life. But this is a really long chapter so please don't kill me!**

Rubble crashed down over their heads, spraying Steve with sharp stone. One piece found its way past the shield he crouched beneath, drawing a line of red across his now dirty face. He poked his head back up to take a look around. For the moment, at least, it was clear.

"Remind me again why we're here?" He asked Black Widow as he stood back up. Her amused snort sounded through the comms. "If you recall, Captain Fossil, this was _your_ idea."

He rolled his eyes and kept moving as her diatribe morphed into an accurate mockery of his voice. "'We needed to check this out Nat. It's a big Hydra base Nat. The scepter could be here Nat.'"

"Hey in my defense, it was Thor that said the scepter could be here. I was more worried about finding-"

"Bucky, yeah we know," Clint's voice cut in. "It's all you've talked about since SHIELD fell. Unfortunately, he's gonna have to hop on the list of missing comrades."

Silence fell over the comms after that, punctuated only by the occasional grunt or thud.

After a few minutes, another voice sounded, "Dammit Clint, did you have to bring her up? I had gone almost a full two hours without worrying about her." Tony had hardly slept in the months since Emory had gone to ground. He hadn't slept at all during the two weeks after the fall of SHIELD.

Since no one had heard from the two SHIELD agents in the months leading up to Hydra's exposure, they had no idea if they got caught up in the ensuing chaos. Their bodies weren't recovered in the fallout, so the Avengers could only hope they were safe.

Hawkeye let out a long sigh. "Sorry Tony."

Steve shook his head as he kicked the door down. He faced an empty room, bits of paper strewn across the floor. Hydra was long gone. "Guys, it's a bust. No one's here."

"Well," Tony replied, "Back to the drawing board then."

The weeks passed, and still the Avengers found no trace of their quarry. Thor hadn't found Loki's scepter, Steve hadn't found Bucky Barnes, and Emory was in the wind.

On the chance off day, the teammates gathered in the Avengers Tower living quarters. They tried to relax -as much as they could- and brainstorm.

"I'm surprised I never met this Agent Black," Thor commented as he searched the cabinets. "You say she was not from Midgard?"

"Well _she_ said she wasn't from Earth." Clint stretched out on a couch, one arm flung across his face. "She didn't have any reason to lie. More than she was already." The arm swayed as he shrugged his shoulders.

"Did she say from where she hailed?" His voice echoed from under the sink. The archer sat up to look at him askance. The only parts of Thor visible were his broad shoulders.

"Thor, what the hell are you doing?"

The god of thunder peered at him from over the counter. " I am searching for the tarts of pop. They are being hidden from me."

"They are. I hid them. You're on ration with the breakfast pastries, Point-break." Tony gave Thor a healthy pat on the shoulder as he passed through the kitchen to sprawl across a chair. "AKA, I'm tired of sharing."

The next moment, he looked up from his phone into two very large, puppy dog brown eyes. "Oh no you don't. I'm not gonna get swindled into giving them up. No Pop-tarts, champ." Thor tramped back into the kitchen grumbling under his breath.

"Anyways….Emory didn't really have a chance to go into where she was from before completely falling off the map. She disappeared from a moving quinjet, I don't think she wanted to talk."

The peal of shattering glass rang from the kitchen. Thor stood frozen over the broken mug, staring down at the floor for a long moment. He turned to look at the two men in the living room. "Did you say her name was Emory?"

Tony perked back up from his sprawl. "Do you know her?" His only response was a passing snort as Thor walked out to the balcony.

"Heimdal!" In the next moment, Thor was gone in a flash of light.

"What the hell Thor?!" The billionaire stared at the imprint the Bifrost made on his concrete balcony. "I swear that man has no respect for architecture." He turned his resigned gaze to Barton. "Think that means he knows her?"

Clint shook his head back and forth, having long ago learned apathy. "I don't know Tony, I don't know."

An oppressive silence lay over the conference room. Tony sat fidgeting with some gadget or other, muttering to himself as his hands stayed busy. Dark shadows sat under his eyes, and his face with a five o'clock shadow, plus a few days. He looked exhausted. Bruce didn't look much better, staring into a mug of black coffee, mesmerized by whatever he was seeing. Neither had slept the last two nights. Few in the tower had.

Two nights. Clint shook his head in disbelief. It had only been two nights since Emory had returned, dragged into the tower by an irate Thor. The way he gripped her arm, it was clear he would tolerate no disappearing acts this time. She was back, and with her all the emotions the agent had bottled up.

Emory wasn't human, wasn't from Earth, and even more shocking, had _powers_. And so far, that was the only information she had given them. Oh, and everyone was in danger from her being there. What was new?

After disappearing for months, Thor, who knew her from God knows where in the galaxy, forces her to come back. It hadn't taken the Thunder God very long to find her, after Clint dropped her name, not knowing the significance. If only he had seen the connection sooner.

Two days. Her excuse was she wanted to wait for everyone to be there, the entire team. Unfortunately, that took time. Time Clint spent pacing the tower, climbing as high as he could, and thinking. Thinking about how he, one of her closest friends, had not known. How she had managed to lie so well to him, to Bruce, to _everyone_ , and then abandon them all.

He glanced through the glass wall. Emory and Fury were arguing over something. Emory pointed towards the men in the conference room, towards Cara in her playpen, and towards the sky. _There's no telling what's going on there,_ he thought. _It's not like she will tell us anyways._

It wasn't the fact that she had powers, or that she was an alien that bothered him. Far from it. He was good friends with Thor, and several other powered individuals throughout SHIELD. They were as much people as he, and sometimes even better. No, what bothered him was that Emory didn't think she could _trust_ him, or any of her friends, with the truth. That she couldn't trust them to keep her and her family safe.

Beyond that, how did Thor even know her? He was Asgardian, was she as well? What if they had been close? What kind of past did she have?

The questions could go on and on, and he planned on having every single one of them answered. If only this damned "meeting" could start. As if on cue, the absent team members turned the corner, everyone tramping in to take their places at the table.

Very little small talk came up as they sat. Instead, solemn faces greeted the three men who stayed behind in the tower. They all knew why they were here.

Steve's troubled eyes met his while he surveyed the group, and he greeted the soldier with a swift nod. No need to ask how the mission went, there would be time for that afterwards.

Finally, Natasha and Kyle walked through the door, followed by Fury and Emory. Not for the first time, Clint wondered at Kyle's role in all this. How much did he know about his girlfriend? Hell, was he an alien too? His eyes met Emory's, those deep blue orbs unreadable. The archer stared her down, unblinking and unforgiving. Soon, she looked away, color flushing her pale cheeks. At least she had the good grace to feel guilty.

Emory looked out across the room, taking in the faces looking back at her. Hurt, anger, confusion and betrayal were the most prevalent emotions. She felt the guilt of her deception rising up in her chest like bile before sitting heavy above her heart. "I know I lied to you, and then ran away. I am sorry for that." A deep red flush rose up Clint's neck to settle in his face.

She winced. She knew his reaction would be the worst, he who was so close to her. After looking away from the accusation in Barton's eyes, she met Kyle's comforting gaze instead. His eyes conveyed everything she needed to hear. _All will be well. Tell them what you can. Apologize._ She heaved a deep breath as the rest sat down, leaving her alone at the head of the table. Here, she was subject to every pair of eyes in the room. She never was one for public speaking.

She began again, soft and hesitant. "I know that there are a lot of mixed feelings in the room, and I understand, I do. I lied to you for a very long time, but I did have reason for that. I let you all worry for months, but it was necessary." She took another steadying breath before continuing. "Please, take the time to listen to my story, and give me time to explain without interrupting. Once I am done, all this will make sense."

Clint snorted, shifting in his chair, arms crossed and shoulders hunched. Her heart tightened in her chest at the display. _Oh friend, please forgive me._ She had to have hope, once she finished, he would. Even now, she couldn't tell them everything. If they knew all, they wouldn't be angry. They would hate her.

"Let me start at the beginning. I am not human. I came to Earth from Asgard, but I am not Asgardian either." Every eye followed her as she continued her story, drawing them in further. "I was born in Vanaheim, one of the Nine Realms, that for a very long time was at war with Asgard. The Vanir and the Aesir were enemies for many millennia before peace found the two realms. My grandmother is Freyja, a goddess of all things beautiful, sex love and war. She is also the queen of Vanaheim, as Odin is King of Asgard. She and Odin were never on the best of terms, as she was quite...promiscuous."

She paused to let all this information settle. "I myself was only a bastard cast-off of one of her many children. I was of little significance to the grand scheme of things. I wasn't even acknowledged by her for many years, have never even met her face-to-face. Instead, I grew up in a village in the mountains of Asgard. It touched the border of Vanaheim, far from most civilization. It was there, raised by an old crone, that I learned the powers of healing and hurting through herbs and plants. No real magic ability come these skills. It's all patience, and lessons passed through generations of women. But, as I grew older, powers inherited from my powerful ancestress emerged as well."

"Wait, so what all powers do you have?" Tony leaned forward on his palms, eager to learn and excited by her revelations.

"I asked for no interruptions. Please, I will answer any and all questions I can when I am done, not before." Tony slumped back in his chair, poking his lip out in a slight pout. Emory relented and softened her tone.

"I am a sorceress, a priestess of Freyja. I pay her homage, and she endows my with her power through spells and chants. I can also manipulate the energy of Ley Lines, and have a small affinity with nature." To illustrate, a pulsating orb of black and purple light formed above her hand, floating as she spoke.

Shock showed on every face but Natasha and Clint's, who saw all this in Russia. "I suppose I myself would be a goddess, although of what I have no idea. As far as I know, no one on Midgard worships me. I tend to stay out of the spotlight. My strength and fortitude is comparable to that of Thor, or others of Asgard." One shoulder lifted in an easy manner; she wasn't concerned with titles.

She turned towards the window, trying to compose herself. When she spoke again, pain choked her voice. "The village that raised me, nurtured me, turned against me in a superstitious rage. Asgardians have no love for magic. Ame, my guardian, sacrificed herself so that I could escape. I left the only home I ever knew with nothing but the clothes on my back, an angry mob at my feet." She shuddered at the end, wrought with the pain of the past. She saw again the twisted angry faces, felt the fire of their torches, heard their curses and insults.

After a moment, she straightened her shoulders and turned away from the window. "Leaving my old life behind, I made my way to the city. I was searching for a new life, while also trying to control this new-found magic, and keep it secret." Her voice cracked under the weight of her words. "I didn't want to leave another home behind."

She glanced up through a veil of tears to see Bruce standing before her, arms open in an invitation of comfort. She surged forward into his warm embrace, holding onto his strength and fortitude. "Come what may Emory, I forgive you. You are still one of my dearest friends," he whispered into her ear, soft enough for her alone. A murmured thank you was all she could choke out.

Stepping out of the warm embrace, she met again the cold stares of the room. At least she had one more ally now. "Of course, there is no staying hidden from the Allfather." The corner of her mouth turned up into a smirk. "Soon after I found work at a tavern in the lower city, Thor and his comrades found me. I thought they were there to arrest me."

Her mind turned back to that day. She remembered using her powers to turn all the rats in the city against the companions, giving her time to escape. They swarmed all but one. He had stepped right past the rodents to follow her out to the alley. There he trapped her against a wall until the others could get to them. She remembered the satisfaction of spitting in his face. She hated him from the beginning. "After a bit of a scuffle, they managed to convince me they were there to help me."

"A bit of a scuffle?" A voice boomed from the doorway. "I still have scars from those vermin you set on us!" Several heads jerked up to see a tall man looming in the doorway, blonde locks brushing his crimson red cape. Mjolnir rested easy in his large, scarred hand. A dangerous light brightened Emory's deep blue eyes, anger evident in her face and manner.

"As you continue to meddle where you aren't wanted, I would say you deserve every one of them!"

"Oh I'm not sure Agent Black. Thor is the only reason any of us are getting answers right now." Emory flinched at Clint's tone, accepting his pain and anger. Thor weighed the archer with a solid gaze, a new wisdom lining his face.

"I would not have retrieved her, were it not necessary for there to be unity here. It was not my story to tell, but you all needed to here it nonetheless. So I brought her back. I apologize Emory." He looked towards her. "I know you are not one for the, what is it you call it, the 'greenlight'?"

Tony burst out laughing, falling to the floor as he lost balance tilting his chair. Bruce smirked behind his coffee, and even Clint cracked a smile as he corrected him. "Limelight, Thor, not greenlight."

Thor cleared his throat, "Yes, well, whatever it may be, Emory has always wanted a quiet life. Yes, she kept secrets. That sort of decision should not shock you, Man of Hawks. You are the keeper of many secrets, and the weaver of many deceptions." Clint flushed at this observation, this time in shame rather than anger.

"I guess we should finish the story, Em?" He sent a tremulous smile her way.

She smiled back before continuing. "Well, that's about it. I gained my martial skills training with Thor and his companions. And I gained control over my magic under his brother." Her smile faded. "That in itself was...miserable. Loki was never the most pleasant of company. Even before the trouble with Thor and Jotunheim he was an ass, and he was a very unforgiving teacher."

"If I remember, the exact phrasing she used to describe him was this. 'An arrogant bastard with a too high opinion of himself, and an immaturity to match his ego,'" Thor chimed in. Another round of laughter shook the room as everyone enjoyed the apt description of their least favorite god.

Emory blushed before continuing. "Yes well, I learned to tolerate him, and he helped me master my magic. Of course, I have never wanted to be a Companion. I wanted peace."

She paused before going on. "With all the unrest in Asgard, first with Jotunheim and then later with Alfheim, I chose to come to Earth." She scoffed. "It hasn't been much more quiet here, to tell you the truth. You humans are a quarrelsome lot. But, it was clear before I left that this was a one way ticket. So, I've lived here two years or so. Coulson found me within a week of arriving to Midgard, and rather than be an enemy, I became Nightshade."

Plopping down in a chair, Emory heaved a sigh of relief. "Now, any questions?" A long pause stretched out before anyone spoke. Steve asked first. "What about Kyle? Who is he to you?" Kyle spoke up for himself, quiet and reserved as always. "I am Emory's companion, nothing more, nothing less. I came with her for the same reasons, searching for the quiet life. There is no relationship between us."

"An Asgardian, but not your man? If this is so, then who is Cara's father?" Steve queried, careful not to offend. Emory spent time looking down at the table, then letting her eyes wander the room before resting on Thor. She answered, "Cara was a blessing of the goddess." The lie was smooth and effortless. "No man was necessary to create her, she is a miracle to me alone."

Everyone nodded affably, believing the lie. Why not, when there were gods and goddesses and magic running amok everywhere you looked? She kept her gaze on Thor, who nodded back in understanding. There was no need for anyone to know Cara's parentage, not right now. More lies, to keep her safe.

"And what about the months where you were missing?" Clint spoke up. "Why keep us all in the dark?" Emory's face darkened as she thought back to the past few months. "I was keeping you all safe from some personal demons. All is well now. I took care of it."

Clint stared into her eyes, searching for the lie, the deception. After a while he nodded, satisfied with her answers. He jumped up to pull her into a hug. "We missed you Em. Don't do that ever again."


	10. All Hail the King

**Can you tell I have a paper due soon? That I haven't started on….that's due in ten days. The only thing to lift me from my fanfic writing procrastination, is grad school writing procrastination. It also helps that we are in old content now, and all I have to do is edit and retype. I have 40 more pages of content already written...it's the new stuff that gets me. Anyways, this will sound pretty similar to my old school readers, but it has some new twists. Enjoy!**

With all questions answered, all worries allayed and all fears relieved, the Tower settled into a more familiar routine. Missions continued. Everyone kissed and cuddled Cara, and in the evenings they tried to have a meal together. Fury tried to claim it built trust and teamwork, but they all knew he enjoyed the home-cooked food.

It was one such evening when Emory and Clint entered the living quarters, fresh from a mission. Still in full gear, Clint gushed about Emory's still so new to him. He waved his arms while he talked, unable to contain the wonder to his voice. "And when you used those roots to wrap around that guy, and the fire in your hands, I wish I had known…"

He trailed off as he realized Emory's attention wasn't on him. He followed her gaze to Cara, who in the months away had learned to crawl, making her a terror throughout the tower. If it weren't for the cats sticking to the kid wherever she wandered, there was no telling the trouble she might get into.

The child's bright green eyes lit up at the sight of her mother, and she gurgled and cooed as Emory leaned down to pick her up. "Well hello little _elska_ , have you been good the past few days?"

Tony snorted and answered for the mute infant, "Oh sure, she only fried two circuits this time. And I worried about the cats screwing shit up." He rolled his eyes as he stood to take Cara, "But yeah, you know. Super spoiled, super loved, all that good stuff."

He reached out his arms. "You really shouldn't pick her up still in your gear. Who knows whose blood and guts is all over her now? Go on, get a shower. Dinner is almost ready."

A call came from the kitchen, "Fifteen more minutes!"

"Well you heard the lady. Nat says fifteen more minutes. Shoo." Emory stuck her tongue out before flashing him a grateful smile and hurried off. A quick shower and a change of clothes later, she stepped out the door to find Thor waiting. She didn't pander. "What news?"

Ever since Russia, she remained on edge about information from Asgard. He sighed and looked at her with pained eyes. "Emory, I have failed you."

She stopped breathing. "I was wrong, and I have caused much pain with my mistakes." He hesitated. "He is alive."

She took in a deep breath, jolted back into breathing by the shock. A small flit of joy, not enough to count, passed through her. Soon after joy, though, came anger. How dare he not tell her before now? She had suffered so much for his constant trickery.

"Are you sure?" They continued to walk down the hallway as they spoke, making their way towards the kitchen.

As Thor and Em got to the living room together, heads close together, Clint watched from the rafters. He couldn't hear anything other than the occasional sharp syllable, but he watched as Emory's arms slashed through the air. Something was wrong.

What were they discussing? What had her so upset? He shook his head, knowing if they wanted the rest of the team to know, they would them them. It had been hard to forgive and let Emory have her secrets, but it was easier to accept now.

Natasha glanced up from the kitchen, knowing his thoughts as always. He smiled down, reassuring her that all was well with him, before looking down at the two deities again. He heard a harsh, "Later," from Emory, ending the conversation.

She moved forward to take Cara, bending down to kiss her head. A jolting crash sent her veering into a wall, the tower shaking. A wail rose up from the baby as the alarms started up, and then stopped. Everyone went on battle defensive, ready to confront the unknown attacker.

"Jarvis, what the hell was that? Who interrupts dinner?" Tony's suit was already assembling around his body as the AI answered. "An unknown force has landed on the roof, sir. I have already shut down the elevators and locked the stairwells."

Mjolnir met Thor's palm with a decisive slap, Cap was already fitting his shield onto his arm, and Nat had two guns trained at the door. Emory passed Cara to Bruce, freeing up her hands. With luck, holding the baby would keep the doctor's green counterpart from showing up. The tower was no place to Hulk out. Soon black and purple swirled around her, dangerous energy crackling throught the air. Her hair swayed in an unseen breeze, and her dark eyes gleamed with an unnatural light.

Clint himself stayed up in the shadows of the rafters, nocking an arrow and waiting. The rest of the team was on mission. It would be up to them to defend their home. A long quiet filled the room. Had it been a false alarm?

The tension eased up after a minute. "Sir, it seems that all indications of invasion have disappeared. Whoever it was, they are gone now." They all relaxed that final bit. It was at that moment that a being materialized in the center of the room, exuding anger and power.

Long black hair swept over a lean figure, green eyes sparking with rage as he focused on one person. Oh joy. His least favorite god of trickery and deception, swept through the room towards Emory. Before anyone could react, he was right in front of her, glowering down into her angry face.

His voice was harsh with unidentifiable emotion. "How dare you? How dare you run away, and then try to keep all this secret from me?"

Emory looked right back up at him, undaunted, matching him glare for glare. Her voice rang out harsh and angry as she shouted back, "How dare _I?_ How dare I what? Try and pick up the pieces of the life you shattered with your foolish choices and need for power? Not just once, but twice!"

She pushed her finger into his chest. While he flinched, he made no move to fight back. By now, the team was back on alert, every weapon trained on Loki.

"I thought you were dead...twice I mourned you, and neither time did you think to inform me that you were alive. Not once did you think to save me from my suffering, from my grief. How dare I? No, how dare you, sweeping in here as though you deserve an explanation!" She slapped him hard, causing Loki's eyes to darken as he felt the red welt come up on his right cheek.

He sneered down at her. "Mourn me, did you? Are you sure it wasn't celebration, _wife?_ "

The entire room took a sharp breath in. What the hell was going on here? At the sound, Loki's gaze swept the room, settling on Cara. He got one step in before a black and purple fist caused him to halt. Instead, he looked across the room, drinking the child in from a distance.

"Is this Cara?" His voice was more gentle, though still thick with that emotion Clint couldn't put his finger on.

Emory's voice was soft as she put her hand back down. "Yes, that's Cara." An unspoken question lit Loki's face, and whatever answer Emory gave brought his rage back ten-fold. "And you didn't think I should know about this?!"

She laughed in his face, a harsh barking sound that caused his face to tighten and his fists to clench. "You were _dead_! How in the Nine Hells was I supposed to tell you?"

The god breathed in, trying to control himself, before shaking his head. He rushed forward, grasping Emory by the throat and pushing her against the wall. They shared a long silent look, a battle of wills, before he glanced around the room, noticing the others for the first time.

"We need to sort this out. Alone." With that, he looked back at Emory and they disappeared. Everyone stared at the wall, in shock. Clint jumped down from the rafters and looked towards Thor. He leaned against the counter musing to himself, unconcerned that one of his comrades was now missing.

Tony looked around and asked the question they were all thinking. "What the fuck was that all about?"

The team remained silent, still getting their bearings. Everyone but Thor, who still seemed unconcerned. So much in fact, that he moved to the kitchen and helped himself to the pasta on the stove. After gaining a plateful, he moved to the bar and sat facing the living room. Still not saying a word, he began to eat.

Tony spoke up again. "How are you so calm right now?! One of our comrades was kidnapped right in front of us, by _your_ brother, and you have the state of mind to eat _stroganoff?_ " His face grew redder and redder with every word he shouted, ending up a deep burgundy.

Thor finished chewing, calm and poised, and swallowed before lifting his shoulders in a shrug. "They are quite evenly matched, I doubt one will hurt the other too much. As it is, you should be grateful, Man of Iron." If it were possible, Tony grew even darker. If this kept on much longer, he was bound to have an aneurysm.

"Grateful? Why the hell should I be grateful?!"

The god smirked at him before going back to his meal. Natasha stepped between them, desperate to interject before Tony keeled over dead. "Thor, why should Tony be grateful? Loki just kidnapped Emory! Shouldn't we worry?"

She asked gently, hiding her nervousness. The same turmoil that she knew everyone else would be feeling. They had just learned to trust their friend again, even accepting her as an unofficial Avenger. To lose her again was devastating to say the least.

Thor shrugged again before answering. "I should not say. All will be well. Trust me, if Emory did not wish to leave with Loki, they would still be here." He grinned, a large rueful smile that lit up his whole face. "As for Tony being grateful, their arguments are the stuff of legend. I only hope they went somewhere deserted, where there is little to break. If they stayed here, the damage would have been comparable to his green beast appearing."

He nodded over at Bruce, still holding Cara. She was sound asleep, her head resting in the crook of his neck as he cradled her to his chest. He gave a wry smile before disagreeing, "I don't know...the big guy can be pretty...destructive."

Thor leveled a look at him, flat and solemn, before phrasing a question to the group. "Has Emory ever been angry with any of you? Truly angry?" Everyone, including Natasha, considered before shaking their heads. No, she had never seen the other woman any more than irritated.

Until tonight, with Loki. He nodded, satisfied. "She can also be quite...destructive. And her aim is as true as any warrior's. Her thrown missile has caught many a victim unawares." Steve scoffed before leaning against the wall, arms crossed over his well-muscled body. "I've never seen Emory angry. Her self control is admired throughout SHIELD. Cold, ruthless, dispassionate, sure. But angry? No, never."

Natasha chimed back in, "Newsflash, Cap. What we just saw, that was angry." She looked over at Clint, still brooding in the shadows. He looked up, meeting her gaze, his emotions indeterminate in the darkness surrounding him.

Walking into the light, he entered the conversation for the first time. "Shouldn't we be more worried about what the argument was about? In my opinion, it sounded an awful lot like a lover's spat. And he called her _wife_. We all heard that. Even more secrets."

Everyone looked back to Thor, now on his third helping. "It is not my place to tell their story, other than to assure you that once they have settled their differences, they will return and make things clear." He licked his lips appreciatively. "This sauce is quite good! Do you think it would pair well with that iced cream you have shown me?" Natasha shuddered at the thought.

"Return here? Who said we would be letting him back on Earth? Last time he was here, he tried to take over the world and almost destroyed Manhattan! And he sure as hell isn't welcome back in MY tower!" Tony raged on, color increasing once again.

A bemused look crossed over Thor's face, before understanding dawned clear. "You do not know then?"

Natasha decided to answer, to allow everyone else time to calm themselves. Right now, Bruce seemed to do the best job, though Cara might have something to do with that. "Know what, Thor?"

He nodded to himself, as if in affirmation. "It is as I fear. Midgard either did not receive or ignored our announcement. Loki resurfaced a few weeks ago, offering himself up for supplication. Hence the reason for my absence this past month. He received fair trial in Asgard, and the courts found him innocent of his crimes against Midgard. He was under control of the Mindstone, not making decisions of his own accord."

A shocked silence met this announcement as everyone processed the new information. "If this is true...it changes everything." This revelation came from Steve, now on the ground.

If Loki wasn't in charge, who was? Natasha felt a hard knot in the pit of her stomach, thinking that if someone even more powerful could be pulling strings, they were in for one hell of a war. She glanced at Clint, who's shell-shocked face spoke volumes. He had the most reason to hate Loki, and now he faced the possibility that Loki was as much a victim as he.

"There's more." Thor cleared his throat, not wanting to divulge this next bit of information. "The Allfather is preparing to fall back into Odinsleep, this time permanently. After the loss of Frigga, our mother, he can no longer bear to exist. As such, he has passed the mantle of King on."

"So you're King of Asgard now, that's great!" Tony's enthusiasm matched the anger and frustration from moments before. _We really ought to get him in with a psychiatrist soon._

The taller man tinged green with discomfort. "Well...no. I gave up my claim to the throne last year. I know now I would never be comfortable ruling. With this in mind, the Allfather passed his mantle down to his other son, Loki. My brother is now King of Asgard."

"Shit."


	11. Misconceptions and Deceptions

**So my first semester of grad school was wicked harder than I expected and I'm so sorry and don't hate me please. Here are 3000 words as appeasement to the ff gods! Take them and enjoy and a blessed Yule to all!**

Another rock sailed by, crashing into the wall he was just leaning against and spraying him with dust and debris. Loki ducked behind a larger rock in the hopes of finding some sort of cover. _This might not have been the best place to bring her._ His thoughts were confirmed when his cover slowly rose up above his head, illuminated in Emory's purple and black magic. Fine. If she wanted to play dirty and use magic, so would he. He surrounded her with six of his tall figure, hopefully confusing her too much for him to be crushed by that menacing boulder.

She glanced around, shook her head, and dropped the large stone. He took the time to drink her in. He had not laid eyes on her in almost three years, and if it were possible she had only grown more beautiful, even in anger. Her dark raven curls whipped wildly around her face and body, only accentuating her figure and high cheekbones. Blue, glittering eyes shone at him like angry jewels, filled with the power of her rage.

He looked forward to having her back. But he wouldn't forgive her. Not easily. Not for running away, not for her new companion, and especially not for hiding their daughter, _his daughter_ , from him. She betrayed him, and she deserved his wrath. He had to hide any affection, not let her have any power over him.

"Why did you run away Emory? You are mine, forever!" All six figures echoed the accusations together.

She crossed her arms across her chest in annoyance. She replied quickly, not in the least intimidated by his display, "If you stop hiding and listen to me, then we can speak like adults."

She grinned mischievously, the gesture lighting her face. "And I promise not to throw anything else at you for the time being."

A flare of pride rose up in him before he could stamp it down again. She was still just as fierce and fey-like as before, the original qualities that had drawn him to her so long ago. That didn't matter anymore. He couldn't let anyone in, especially not this deceitful bitch. Asgard depended on him being strong now.

He gave his best courtier's smile, and with an elegant wave of the arm conjured a table and two chairs, perfect for hard negotiation. Like the gentleman he was, Loki allowed Emory to seat herself before taking his own. She started in before he had time to draw breath.

"Why are you here Loki? You came to me, you started this argument, you've pestered me in my dreams for months. Why decide to come back into my life now?"

He countered with another question. "Why didn't you tell me about Cara?" She stared at him in disbelief, an act probably.

Finally she replied, "Are you kidding me? Use your common sense, as hard as that might be. Before you began entering my dreams, before you rescued me in Russia, I had absolutely no idea you were alive. You….Were….Dead."

This time it was he who stared. How had she not known? Surely he remembered coming to her, after his reappearance in Asgard following the invasion fiasco. But then, all of that was so foggy. "Didn't you see me, after I was imprisoned at Asgard?"

Pain crossed her face before she answered. "No… Odin decided I was not trustworthy enough to remain in Asgard while you were imprisoned there. I was banished to Vanaheim, no longer welcome." She turned her face away, a defense method she used to hide her feelings. "I didn't mind so much at the time, seeing as you tried to kill your brother, despite my warnings and misgivings, and then died, and apparently didn't die, and then tried to invade Earth!"

The palm of her hand slapped down onto the table, small cracks spreading out around her slender fingers. "In your mad quest for power, it never occured to you to let your _grieving_ widow know that you were alive?! Do you know how I found out?"

It was a rhetorical question, he knew that, but he still gave a small shake of his head, trying to sputter out a response. "I found out when Odin imprisoned me in my rooms, while Thor went down to Midgard to fetch you back! I was treated like a criminal because I was your wife. At least while you were dead I was a respected widow of the royal family."

A spasm of pain flashed through Loki's chest as he realized that he was not the only one that suffered from his choices. _I did this to her. I made her so bitter, so fragile. What have I done?_ "Emory, I-"

She interrupted quickly, "I wasn't finished yet!"

She took a deep breath, and then another before continuing, "Once you were brought back, I was sent to Vanaheim in shame. I was not able to speak to you, to see you. Thor was kind enough to let me know you were well, physically at least."

Another deep breath. "I wasn't able to be there when Frigga…." Her voice faltered, and she took a moment, not speaking, just staring at the cracks on the table that she had made in her anger. Finally, she spoke again. "I wandered Vanaheim, never settling in any one place. Eventually, I was taken in by a group of my grandmother's priestesses, and initiated into her order. I became a priestess in her name, imbued with her gifts."

Realization dawned on him. This explained her sudden increase in power, why he was now struggling to hold back attacks that before were like so many insects flitting about.

She continued, "It was there Thor found me, and told me about the elves. He told me how you redeemed yourself, and then died protecting him." Her smooth voice grew thick with pent up emotion, and he could tell she was close to tears.

He moved to go to her, to hold her, and was quickly rebuffed.

"Don't touch me!" A hand came up in warning as she looked away. "I can't...not now." Tears flowed freely down her face now, and Loki felt his icy heart breaking under the guilt of her pain. This was _his_ fault.

"You were dead once again. Gone, forever this time I thought. Thor saw you die, we were sure." She laughed, a humorless sound that only expressed her disdain. "I should have known better, should have realized it was another one of your tricks."

Blazing eyes met his, holding him immobilized, piercing through his soul. Emory spoke once more, her voice now cold and dispassionate. "I was a fool. This time, I grieved you, and what we could have had. I was welcomed back to Asgard, but I declined. The Allfather is fickle, and I was so very tired. I was so exhausted, and so I came to Midgard instead."

She stood, the lengthening shadows of their nameless world falling on her, shading her face in darkness. Loki realized the truth then.

His wife, the woman his father arranged as his companion, wasn't the fool. He was. He had had so much in her, and he threw it away in a try for power. Power he now had as king, and yet, would throw away in a heartbeat to gain her affection back.

"Emory….I," he paused. What could he really say? "I'm sorry. Please...forgive me. Please come home, let our daughter have a father. She deserves her birthright!"

Puzzled eyes looked back at him, questions rising to the surface. "Birthright? Her only birthright is as a descendent of Freyja, most likely a future priestess. What could you possibly offer her, as a liar and a trickster?"

Anger flared up within him, anger that he quickly extinguished. He deserved her scorn. Her insults. But he also deserved to know their daughter. And Cara deserved a life in Asgard, as a princess and eventual queen.

"Emory, my father has permanently fallen into the Odinsleep, and he named me his successor. I'm the king of Asgard, and Cara is my heir."

The priestess, the sorceress, his wife, stared at him in quiet shock. Suddenly she began laughing, not humorless as before, but almost maniacal, going on and on until she lay on the ground before Loki gasping, taking small breaths as he looked on in confusion. Once she had finally composed herself, raising her lithe body off the ground and wiping tears from her beautiful face, she spoke, a new humor in her voice.

"What you tell me now, that you are King of Asgard, do you realize that all this time that's all you have ever wanted? Not me, not children, not love. You wanted a throne." Her face twisted in anger. "How in the Nine Hells did you actually do it?"

She started chuckling again, wrapping her arms around herself. "All this time, all this pain, and you still got what you wanted. But do you even care? What all have you lost in the process?"

With that, she stepped through to Midgard, gone. He stared at the spot where she stood just moments before, and felt himself sink to his knees. What had he done? What had he thrown away?

He allowed himself to weep for what he lost. How would she forgive him after this? He didn't deserve to be forgiven, certainly. He allowed the pain to wash over him, the deep blackness of unconsciousness pulling him down.

He awoke later to a crackling fire and Thor beside him. Loki lifted his head slightly before letting it fall back down to the ground. "She's gone brother. I've lost her. I've lost her, and I cannot get her back, and I certainly do not deserve her. Why go on from here?"

The king felt his brother stand. "Get up Loki. This is not over."

Loki sneered, drowning in self-pity. "Of course it is. What use is being king, having this power, this responsibility, if she will only see me as a monster, the monster that crushed her?"

"Then we must change how she sees you. Do not give up yet brother. Now get up." Loki lifted his head once more to see Thor's hand reaching down for him. Gratefully, he took it, lifting himself to his feet. He would trust his brother, and he would get his wife, and his daughter, back.

"What do I need to do?"

No one said a word when Emory materialized in the living room, or when she scooped up Cara and made straight for her suite. The thunderhead that was her face ensured that. She was angry, no doubt about it.

The anger even reflected in her familiars, who now stalked through the tower in a quiet rage, tails twitching back and forth in irritation at the slightest provocation. Day after day, the Avengers tiptoed past her door, waiting for the storm to calm, waiting for her to come back out and explain what was happening.

Thor disappeared without explanation shortly after she returned, and Emory wasn't speaking to anyone, so the team was fairly in the dark. Natasha had some ideas, but without more information, nothing was concrete.

She knew Loki was back in the picture, and that Thor was siding with his brother- Loki was innocent, and King of Asgard. The spy also knew that Emory knew the trickster god from the past, and that Loki had called her _wife_. She also knew that there was bad blood there, if the arguing and fights were any indication so far.

Air pushed through her nostrils in a great huff, blowing up her bangs as she vented her frustration. The redhead pushed off the couch to stride down the hallway, course set. Enough was enough. Emory had been locked in that room for four days, she needed to come out.

She steeled her shoulders before solidly pounding on the door a few times. _Might as well show some backbone from the get-go._ "Emory, please open the door. I'm worried."

A slight rustle sounded on the other side of the door, but no one approached. Natasha rolled her eyes. "Emory, I know you're in there. JARVIS can read your bio signature. Please come and talk to me." More rustling, and then the door cracked open enough for Natasha to catch a glimpse of the room behind her.

What she saw shocked her. Broken furniture lay haphazard everywhere, fragments of pottery scattered across the floor. Emory herself was worse. Tangled hair matted down her back, while red, puffy eyes gazed back at the other woman.

"Why should I talk to you? You don't like me very much, never trusted me."

Natasha blinked. This wasn't what she expected. "That's true, I didn't like or trust you for a long time. But I would like to think we are friends now. Besides, would you really rather talk to one of the guys?"

Emory wavered in the doorway, considering, but something in Nat's face must have convinced her because she opened the door further, swinging her arm out in invitation. She took full stock of the room then, as if for the first time. Emory gave a start at the sight, and with a blush and wave of her hand the entire suite reassembled itself, shards rising back into full pieces as though the damage never happened.

Natasha stared at her, somehow shocked by the display despite everything she had seen while with the Avengers. The smaller woman blushed again before saying, "I have a bit of a temper. That was one of the first things I learned to do." She cleared her throat, her voice dry and thick. A wry smile crossed her face. "Of course, it's been some time since I've had to use it."

The sorceress seemed more comfortable after making this admission, shoulders relaxed and head held high. She gave a more genuine smile this team, one that reached her eyes. "Please, sit down. We might be here a while."

Saying that, she herself took a seat on the comfortable loveseat. Nat returned the smile, more at ease now that the other woman was willing to finally speak to someone.

"Are you ready to tell me what's going on? You are obviously upset about something, or _were_ at least, if this room is anything to go by."

Emory stared at her, pensive. "Yes….I suppose I'm as ready as I'll ever be." Her chest heaved with a large sigh, a quick exhalation, preparing herself.

"No more games or diversions. Just the truth." She looked straight at Natasha as she continued. "Loki is my husband."

The truth hit Natasha like a 9 mil slug to the gut, knocking the breath from her lungs. She has suspected, had _heard_ him say it, but she hadn't wanted to _believe_ it. All she could do was stare speechless for a moment. Emory took the silence as leave to keep going.

"I left Asgard because I could not bear to be around his memory any longer. I thought he was dead…" She looked up at the taller redhead, moisture beading at the corners of her eyes.

"I married Loki when he was still a decent man, a good brother, before his mad quest for power drove him away from me, from his family."

"It was an arranged union. Odin meddling as always." She snorted. "I was never enough for him."

Her voice broke at this, and Natasha took the gap to speak up. "Loki's wife...well that makes sense, now that I know." She shook her head and focused on her friend. "Well, he's alive, and he knows you are here. What are your plans? What do _you_ want to do?"

Emory's eyes focused on some insignificant spot on the wall for some time as she thought. Natasha studied her as she contemplated the future. Even though the priestess was tired and looked frail, curled up with arms around knees on the couch, Nat knew her backbone was still firmly in place. She could kill Loki ten times over for all the messes he'd made. Chaos followed him wherever he roamed.

Finally, she replied. "I'm not sure what I want. I grieved him, twice. But he is still my husband." She looked up sharply, fire burning in her eyes again, illuminating the dull light that had taken over. "But I refuse to be a puppet. I refuse to go back to him, placing a quest for power before my happiness. I will not go back to a place where I am not loved or appreciated. Wanted."

Natasha nodded slowly, taking in all the facts and spinning out possibilities. "And Cara? Who is…?"

"Her father?" Emory interjected. "Loki is. I meant what I said about the blessing of the goddess. She allowed me to choose when to become pregnant, and with which of my past lovers." She looked up towards the ceiling, spilling out the last bit in a rush. "He didn't actually need to be there even though he's the father."

The spy started laughing at the jumbled mess coming from Emory's normally cool and poised mouth. "Well that explains why he was so pissed. I hear men like to be there for that kind of thing."

A giggle escaped her friend's lips, and before long they were cackling like fools, tears streaming down both women's faces.

Once they composed themselves somewhat, Nat turned back to the conversation. "So you don't want to go back to a loveless marriage, and that's understandable. But what if he does love you?"

Emory made a very unladylike sound deep in her throat. "I highly doubt that. He's simply trying to recover his ego. He has what he wants now. He's King of Asgard." She smiled sadly before going on, "He does not need nor want me. He just doesn't like to lose. It's all a game to him."

Natasha moved closer to her, taking a small hand in hers. She realized with a shock that this might be the first time she voluntarily touched her.

"And what about Cara? She deserves to know her father."

A cloud of guilt passed over the sorceress's face. "I know. She will know her father, and her birthright as heir to the throne of Asgard. I cannot be selfish with her future." Nat squeezed her hand reassuringly, proud of the woman. She may not like her very much, but she damn well _respected_ her.

"How about we go see everyone else and explain what's going on. They've had time to adjust to Loki's innocence, so the backlash won't be awful. Maybe they will have some feedback."

Emory nodded slowly, before standing and walking to the door. She paused briefly, looking back, blue eyes sparkling with unshed tears. Whether they were gratitude or pain was hard to discern.

"Thank you Natasha. Really."

 **Wow so, I know this is old content to my OG readers, for which I'm sorry, but I did tweak the plot because I need to draw out the Loki/Emory angst. This is a slow burn, sorry guys! I need some feedback as well….Do we want a mature rating for this? For you know…..hot and heavy scenes? Or do you guys want to keep this PG 13 ish? I need feedback to know! You guys know I love constructive criticism and suggestions for future plot.**

 **Anyways,**

 **XOXO M**


	12. A Reckoning

**Wow, it's been so long! I'm so sorry. Life was a bit hectic there for a while, but I think I can handle it. In reward for your patience, a very big, very juicy chapter!**

From his perch in the rafters of the kitchen, Clint could see everyone and everything in the room. Including the newest arrivals. He remained tense, on alert, even after Fury's order to stand down.

Fury wasn't the problem. The problem was the god casually strolling in behind him, in deceptively calm conversation with his brother. As quiet and still as the archer was, Loki glanced up at his hiding place and smirked slightly before returning to his discussion. Keeping one eye on the trickster, Clint focused again on what Fury was saying.

"Now that it has been verified that Loki was indeed under the influence of the Mind Stone, and was proven innocent in a multi-realm trial. That verdict was then approved by the UN as well. Therefore, he will not be held accountable for any damages or crimes against Earth."

Clint huffed quietly. Even though he too knew the influence of the Mind Stone, he still had trouble forgiving and forgetting being brainwashed by this pyscho. Besides that, he _killed_ Coulson. How did they forgive that?

Tony spoke up first, as usual. "That doesn't mean we have to l _ike_ him though, right? Like, I'm not entirely cool with him being in my tower. _Again_. Several nods from the others showed agreement. "Not to mention, the Mind Stone had nothing to do with New Mexico. What about that?" Mumbled agreement swept around the room.

Thor stepped forward to address the challenge. "I actually took responsibility for the incident of New Mexico some time ago. That is no longer an issue, and I forgave my brother on a personal level for our arguments at the time."

Tony snorted in reply. " _Arguments_."

Fury looked around the room, taking the time to meet every pair of eyes with his one before going on. "He may have been forgiven by the UN, but his public image could use some work. Therefore, we are making him an Avenger-" A cacophony of voices rose up in protest all at once.

"No one even likes the guy-"

"How would you expect us to work with a former enemy?"

This guy could test the patience of a saint, and you want to leave him in the same tower as the Hulk?!"

Clint remained silent, choosing instead to watch Emory ghost in the doorway, still and quiet as she listened unobserved.

"-to allow the people to see him doing good deeds for once." Fury's voice cut through all the protests to complete his statement, leaving the room in silence. "This is non-negotiable. It is only temporary, so relax. I'm sure we can all get along for a few months."

"And what about your kingdom? What of Asgard?" Emory spoke up in the silence, all attention turned to her. She stepped fully into the room then, shoulders back. " How are you going to rule and be an Avenger, all at once?" She stood in her own gentle power, long hair swirling around her petite form. The witch crossed her arms and stared across the room in defiance. "Why even care about your image here on Earth? You could just never come back."

"I vote that option! Just don't come back." Tony piped up from his place on the couch.

Loki stared back at Emory, just as much defiance in his posture. "I do not like to leave matters unresolved." He took a deep breath. "And my kingdom will keep without me as I regain favor here. I need to do this. A regent has been appointed to rule in my stead until I return with all of my relationships mended."

Emory stared at him a long moment, appraising and calculating, a sharp glint in her eyes. Clint also took the time to study the dynamic between the two. Suddenly it hit him. There was a hidden agenda here.

This wasn't about Earth and his public image. Loki was trying to win Emory back after whatever stupid blunder he lost her to in the first place. _Well, faking my death twice without letting Laura know would probably put me in the doghouse too._

Quickly, the archer shook himself from his humor. He wasn't about to compare himself to Loki, or sympathize with the bastard.

Finally, Emory gave a decisive nod before turning on her heel and heading back down the hallway. Loki moved to go after her, but his brother grabbed him by the arm and held him back. They exchanged looks before Loki relaxed, sitting down at the counter to study his hands, apparently not willing to make conversation.

A few moments later, Anilma and Saphin were at his feet, staring up at him suspiciously. Loki studied them in return before finally chuckling and shaking his head. "Cats," he muttered. "But of course."

Clint jumped down from the rafters, landing lightly on his feet beside the newest Avenger. Loki didn't even flinch. "I think he should get a chance. And I have the most reason to be pissed."

Fury sighed, looking up at the ceiling. "I don't think you people quite understand what non-negotiable means, but I'm glad you deign to agree."

He stared down the other Avengers one by one until only Tony remained. The billionaire rolled his eyes and sighed, throwing his hands up in defeat. "Fine! I guess he can stay. But you have to clean up after him!"

Fury nodded to himself. "Well, I suppose I will let you get cozy together. I have more important things to do today than hold your hands." With that, he turned and let himself out.

An awkward silence fell over the room at his departure. No one wanted to be the first to speak, to break that silence. Finally, Thor looked around before saying, "Well, for those of you who may have forgotten, this is my brother Loki. Other than that one incident with the Tesseract, he is fairly agreeable to be around."

Tony spoke up again, mischief in his eyes. " I think I liked how Emory phrased it."

Loki's face darkened slightly. "And how exactly did she phrase it? Do tell." He spoke in a deceptively quiet voice, but Clint heard the threat in his tone.

"I said that you were an arrogant bastard with a too high opinion of yourself, and an immaturity to rival your ego." The god looked up to see her standing there, holding Cara in her arms. Loki glowered from across the room before brightening at the sight of the child. He replied slowly, choosing his words with care. "I suppose...that tends to be an accurate description of myself most days."

Emory showed a shadow of a smile on the edge of her full lips before it ghosted away again. She looked down at her daughter, and then back at Loki. She tried a tremulous smile that quickly slid away. "Would you like to officially meet your daughter?"

A spray of coffee went across the room. Tony stood blankly holding the mug, stricken with disbelief.

"Wait, what? Did I miss something?" Steve ran a hand through blonde hair, the same look upon his face at the revelation.

Natasha smirked before leaning across his chair. "Come on Cap, you didn't see that coming? Tony's dense, he never picks up on anything, but I had more faith in your abilities."

"We weren't the only ones…." All around the room everyone was nodding, no one looking confused or lost in the least. He sighed. "No. No, I guess it's just us."

Nodding as she moved away, Nat patted his shoulder in consolation before settling on the counter near Emory and Cara. Clint smirked at the not so subtle gesture. _Guess I'm not the only paranoid one here._ Come to think of it, no one but Thor looked entirely at ease.

Even Emory stood tense before him, holding her daughter to her chest as though Loki would snatch the child up and disappear forever. Apparently, Loki saw the same thing.

"Emory, I will not hurt her. She is a part of me, just as she is a part of you. Please. Can I… may I hold her?"

The archer swiveled his head back to the god, surprised by the raw emotion in his voice. Tony stood up suddenly, clearing his throat. "Maybe we should give them some alone time." Emory rose an eyebrow in surprise, surprise mirrored throughout the room. _Tony_ was thoughtful? What the hell?

Loki spoke up before anyone could think on the turn of events too long. "That would be appreciated. If Emory wants a chaperone, I'm sure she would be content with Thor staying. Emory?"

Throughout his speech, he held eye contact with the woman, saying with his eyes what he could not in words. He was begging. She gave an affirmative nod. He flashed a mischievous grin, "We promise not to break anything. I think we can manage civil conversation today." Thor chuckled.

With Emory's blessing, the group broke off into twos and threes, drifting from the room to undoubtedly eavesdrop later. Clint grinned at Natasha as they left. There were some great air shafts over this room they could try out.

The next few weeks were painful for everyone involved. The whole team walked on eggshells, all afraid to break the tentative peace between them and the God of Mischief. Thankfully, Loki seemed just as anxious to hold that peace. The effort he put into not being quite so arrogant and condescending was noticed and appreciated.

For the most part, he kept to himself. He read in the library, trained in the dead of night, and ate in his rooms. Other than a few annoying tricks -he had to stay amused to some level- the mischief was at a minimum. His relationship with the team had not devolved, but neither had it moved forward. They were stagnant, waiting for some catalyst to push them.

For once, the entire team was at home for the weekend. Unfortunately, the terrible storms currently tearing through New York City made it nigh impossible to leave the tower. The cats prowled restlessly, tails twitching back and forth in response to the tension pouring off the bored and discontented Avengers.

Everyone was lounging around the living room in various clusters. Cara lay on the floor, gnawing on a toy while the cats held vigil over her. Bruce and Tony sat at the bar, discussing the merits of specific building media in robotics. Or rather, they argued, using their hands to illustrate their points, voices rising and falling in jargon that made no sense to her.

Sam, Steve, Rhodey, Thor and Loki sat on the floor around the coffee table, playing a not so friendly game of Monopoly. Steve looked down at the board, frowning, no doubt still trying to puzzle out the different rules and strategies of the game. The other two Midgardians were taking shameful advantage of Thor's ignorance, convincing him to give up fundamental properties and make risky choices. They shared a smirk as Thor unwittingly sold Boardwalk to Rhodey for a ridiculously low amount of money.

Loki had quickly gotten savvy with the game, investing and amassing enough wealth to rival Sam and Rhodey, and Emory was sure he was using sleight of hand for an even sharper edge.

Natasha and Clint leaned over a book together in the corner, heads almost touching as they whispered quietly together. All a show, of course. Emory could see Natasha's sharp eyes glinting through the veil of red hair cascading from her shoulder to cover her face. The smaller woman smiled to herself. That pair was still sore from being caught in the air vents during a particular private conversation.

Perched on the window seat, she sat half listening to the rain as she watched the deceptively gentle scene unfolding before her. The goddess smiled again. She was becoming comfortable here and had even declared a sort of truce with her wayward husband. Emory thought back to their conversation, the one so rudely interrupted by the spy pals.

They waited patiently as the team reluctantly filed from the room. Some of the more nosy members had hoped to witness this confrontation. She supposed it was a side effect of dabbling in espionage. As they all left, Emory studied her husband quietly.

Instead of looking at her, his entire being was absorbed with the infant in his arms. Upon receiving her, his whole face lit up with awe and wonder, gazing into those emerald green eyes, his eyes. Dark hair hung down his forehead, highlighting stark cheekbones and a thin nose.

Suddenly his gaze met hers, interrupting her staring. Rosy color rose up her face from her neck at being caught. He smiled indulgently, for once not saying anything snarky, too wrapped up in his beautiful newfound daughter to put any effort into his arrogance.

"I'm sorry for keeping her from you. I know I should have gone back to Asgard with her, but I didn't want to have to share her." Her wavering voice broke the silence, beginning the conversation she had avoided for weeks.

He smiled gently, the gesture softening his harsh features. He kept his gaze on Cara, who looked up at him with interest as she thoughtfully sucked on a fist.

After a moment, he replied, "I honestly cannot hold it against you, wanting to keep this beautiful child all to yourself. And you were right. I was dead. How could you tell me anything?"

Relief washed through her. Loki was going to understand. Just as quickly, suspicion followed. "You make it a point to never tell me when I'm right. Why now?" She studied him intently to garner as much information as possible from his answer.

He lifted his eyes to meet hers, emeralds clashing with sapphires in an intense gaze. The force she saw in him took her breath away. Who was this passionate man, who admitted his faults and openly showed affection to his daughter? What happened to the cold man she married so long ago, in Odin's idea of a political match?

Neither had wanted the union, already at odds from their relationship as teacher and student. Once it occurred, Loki only ever showed indifference to her, except in the bedroom, where he was demanding and possessive, coldly accepting his due as a husband and going no further.

The question left her lips before she could think better of it. "Why are you here? You never loved me, so why now?" She watched pain flash in his eyes before he shuttered his expression, anger stiffening his body. _There he is, the man I knew._

He parried quickly, in the sparring of voices their arguments always ended in. Venom and sarcasm dripped from his tongue. "What, you do not want me? After everything I have done to protect and provide for you, you choose to be ungrateful? My name alone makes you better than what you started as, a Vanaheim gutter rat!"

Cara squirmed in his arms, whining a little at his tone and the palpable tension in the room. Regret immediately showed through as he cuddled her closer. "I apologize, that was wrong of me. Please, this is hard for me as well. Forgive me my temper."

She blinked through a curtain of tears to study him once again. He did look contrite. Perhaps, just perhaps, she could get used to him being around enough to at least see Cara. No one expected them to resume their marriage. If Loki did, she would disabuse him of that notion quickly. Emory was not going back.

"Loki, I don't know how to trust you. Please, let's just get comfortable around each other. Do what you came to do with the Avengers, and we shall see what happens."

He nodded reluctantly, obviously grateful to have any sort of chance. The king smiled down at his child once more, taking in her mother's beauty and power. "Alright, my dear."

A noise that had been bothering Emory for some time finally clicked into place. She swung to face the far end of the room, focusing on the air vents peering down. With a quick slash of her wrist, the entire wall exploded into the room, two figures tumbling down into the rubble.

Clint coughed harshly as he stood, swiping an arm across his face to wipe away the dust. He only made it worse. Natasha just looked ashamed, hanging her head and refusing to meet Emory's eyes.

She looked down on them with disapproval. _Spies_. "I trust you have sated your curiosity enough for today. I suggest you leave, now." Natasha glanced up sharply at her tone, and then quickly down again at the anger on Emory's face. The pair scuttled from the room as the witch waved her hand to repair the damage to the wall and clean up her mess.

Tony's voice echoed over the intercom. "Stop breaking my tower!" She threw her hands up in exasperation, storming from the room. Was nothing private?

She was brought out of her private reverie as a crash, not thunder, sounded through the room. Thor flipped the board game off the table in frustration. Natasha looked up sharply at the sound, eyes narrowing at the dark-haired god laughing at his brother. Quickly she stood, striding to the scene to stand before him.

"Alright, I've had enough of this shit. You and me, in the training gym, right now. I want to see what you're made of, and we could all use a break from this tension."

Heads shot up around the room. Everyone was listening now.

An arrogant smile crept halfway up Loki's face before falling away in horror. The entire team stood around him. It was apparent, they _all_ wanted a shot at him.

Emory shook her head as she stood to play the mediator. "Alright, guys, one at a time. We are not trying to kill him." She smiled despite herself in anticipation of the show. Bruce seemed to be having the same thoughts as Emory scooped up her daughter and started towards the gym.

Loki looked around frantically in search of reinforcements. Finding none, not even in his brother, he was shepherded from the room, head low, to the elevator and down to the large indoor gym they used to train. The entire place had been shielded especially to withstand blasts, shots, blades, and magic of all sorts.

Tony was rather proud of it, even if he barely utilized it himself. Emory sedately walked up the rows to sit in the stands on one side, settling down with Cara in her arms to watch her husband hopefully get knocked down a peg or five.

For Thor's sake, I do request you try very hard not to kill him. He _is_ currently king of Asgard, and if he dies Thor will be forced to take up the mantle." Although Thor looked relieved by her statement, Loki just looked indignant. Of course he would, with her placing value on him merely for his usefulness to his brother. That was an old argument.

The Avengers surrounded Loki, spreading out to form a circle with the god in the center. He glanced around nervously, taking in the imposing figures around him.

Natasha smirked condescendingly, arms crossed in a seemingly relaxed manner as she stalked forward. "Relax Loki, we won't go after you all at once. This is gonna be a one on one game, with no maiming, killing, or lasting psychological torture."

He relaxed slightly at this admission. It was then Nat struck, spinning into a kick aimed for his head. Fortunately for him, his reflexes were up to par enough for him to at least stumble back and duck the blow. A pair of hands pushed him back into the center of the circle, where the Black Widow waited.

Loki straightened his shoulders, and a look of calm resolve settled on his face. _Oh good_ , Emory thought, _he's going to take this seriously._ She leaned forward in interest, waiting to see what would happen next.

With his bearings now, Loki moved like a serpent to come around Nat's side, aiming a sharp jab at her kidney, which she quickly deflected. They went through several maneuvers, back and forth in a mesmerizing ebb and flow of hands, feet, and the occasional blade, neither coming out on top for very long before the other brought them down again. The group watched for what seemed like an eternity before Loki finally landed the Black Widow in a choke hold, both of them breathing hard from the exertion.

She submitted, giving him a nod of begrudging respect as she stepped back into the crush of bodies surrounding him. "So who would be next?" he asked, wiping sweat from his face. "Does anyone else want to test my mettle, my resolve?"

A murmur rustled through the group, as they hesitantly considered taking on the man who just held his own against Natasha Romanoff.

Finally, Clint stepped forward. Emory raised an eyebrow, intrigued by this turn of events. Really though, it made sense. He and Loki had a personal matter to settle.

Loki met his eyes, staring at him as though he were searching the depths of Hawkeye's mind and soul. After a long moment of evaluation, he nodded, apparently accepting what he saw. He then turned away from Clint to sweep an arm around the room, addressing the spectators.

"I believe we shall need a bit more room than this. Do you not agree?" This question was directed towards his opponent, who nodded curtly in agreement before adding, "I think you all should hit the stands. We are planning on using all the space we can get. Non-lethal means only, right?"

Emory answered before Loki could respond, much to his irritation. "Yes, please." He turned a scowl at her but softened his glare at her mischevious grin, rolling his eyes indulgently instead before turning back to his impending match.

Tony stepped forward to be the referee, laying out the rules. "Alright folks, this is it. No lethal means, everything else is fair. Avoid the stands, the rest of the room is yours. Oh, also, we can try out my new toy!" He looked towards the ceiling, childlike glee lighting up his face. "Jarvis, initiate the new simulation program, Ancient Ruins."

The entire room was suddenly gone, quickly replaced by a foreign landscape, complete with sounds, smells, and feelings. A warm breeze flowed over the group in the stands, bird sounds and panther calls rising up from the thick jungle at the edges of what was once the gym. Now the majority of the room was dominated by crumbling ruins, interspersed with drooping vines, tall trees, and even a waterfall off to the side. It looked as though they had stepped directly into the heart of India.

Steve gave out a low whistle in surprise. "I've got to hand it to you, Tony, this is astounding. How many settings do you have?" Tony's face lit up even brighter; he was more than ready to brag about his latest invention.

"Before you guys start nerding out, maybe we should let these two have at it. They look a bit antsy." Emory interjected quickly, eager to see the upcoming match.

The two men nodded sullenly before returning to the stands. Loki and Clint exchanged a glance before heading towards opposite sides of the room, disappearing from view.

"Jarvis, could you bring up the cameras on both competitors?" Two separate views of the field popped up in front of the stands. Emory raised an eyebrow once more. This was impressive, even for Tony.

Clint had already climbed into the trees, making his way limb from limb with his bow on his back. Loki, on the other hand, remained on the ground, using his illusory magic to create three duplicates of himself. As they moved forward, he advanced at a slower pace, using them as scouts and fodder.

For a little while, it was merely a game of cat and mouse, until finally, Clint came into contact with one of the copies. He lazily sent a blunt arrow straight at its chest, but once the illusion flickered out, frustration replaced the smugness growing on his face. Emory smirked. He should have known it wouldn't be that easy.

The archer called out to no one in particular, "Come on Trickster, surely you aren't going to hide behind these pawns the entire time. Come out and fight me like a man!" Nothing answered him but jungle sounds and water crashing down to his left, where the simulated waterfall and lagoon lay right next to him.

Suddenly, he was jerked down into the water, pulled by his ankle into the dark depths by an unseen attacker. Anyone who might have been bored by the lack of action was quickly sucked in by the difficult struggle going on in that blackness.

Before long, Loki broke the surface, taking a deep breath before pulling Clint out with him. The other man rolled on his side, coughing and spluttering as he struggled to force air into his lungs.

Once he stopped coughing, he gave the god an appraising look. "Distraction. I should have seen it, but I approve. You won't get me so easily next time."

Loki smirked as he reached down a hand to help Clint up. "So we have settled our differences then?"

Clint gave him a sharp nod. Tony addressed the AI once again. "Alright Jarvis, you can bring the sim down now." Just as quickly as the landscape had appeared, it was gone, replaced by the sterile gym walls and rain pelting down on the slatted windows.

The rest of the team surrounded the two, offering Loki congratulations and slapping him on the back, which of course made him incredibly uncomfortable. Emory smiled as she handed him, Cara. He might not realize it, but the God of Mischief had just come along way in becoming part of this team.

Suddenly, Kyle crashed into the room, blood dripping from his nose to mix with his rain-drenched locks. He had been growing it out ever since their covers as humans were blown. Emory quickly turned to run to him, looking the man over with obvious care, searching for more injuries.

Unknown to her, Loki bristled at the sight of her concern over another man. Who was this? And why was he so familiar with _his_ wife?

Clint spoke up. "Kyle, what happened. You only went out for a run!" He was pierced by the man's fierce gaze, as the tall man replied, "I know more about who attacked Cara and Emory because they just attacked me."


	13. A Mission, A Flame

**Behold, it is I! So in hobbit culture, it's customary on one's birthday to give gifts to others instead of receiving gifts. Therefore, as my birthday was this week, I gift you this extremely long, extremely juicy chapter that you will absolutely love. In fact, because it is my birthday, and because you will love this chapter, I know that every single one of you is going to give me a wonderful review to make me smile. XOXO M**

They all stared at Kyle in dumb silence. All except for Emory, who still hovered over her wounded partner, moving from each wound in a tense worry. Suddenly, she looked up, meeting his eyes. The gaze held for several seconds, and then she gave a sharp nod.

"Go ahead and get to the infirmary. I'll brief them in the conference room." He turned and left, obviously used to following her orders.

She glanced at the rest of the group, noticing Loki's scowl for the first time. An eyebrow rose slightly, and then she was gone, headed to set up for the meeting. Her familiars ghosted out of the shadows, circling Bruce, who held Cara in his arms, before following their mistress out the door with the flick of a tail.

Steve spoke first this time, looking from person to person. "So I guess we will be doing a brief in the conference room here in a few minutes." He appeared slightly bemused by the turn of events. "When did Kyle get back? I haven't seen him in weeks I feel."

Natasha answered before Clint could open his mouth. "He came in last night. He was off-world for some private mission between him and Emory. Sometimes I can believe it's more master and servant than a couple with those two, especially recently."

Tony smiled deviously. "Well, we have all seen her in leather, so it's not too far of a jump, right?" He barked in pain as Thor slapped him on the back of the head sharply. "What, it's just a joke!"

Loki's answering glare silenced his excuses quickly, as Tony found anywhere else in the room to look other than him. After the Asgardian king's display of power before, he wasn't too keen on challenging him, accidentally or otherwise.

As the team filed out of the gym, Loki held an arm out to keep Thor back for a private moment. He wanted some questions answered. "Who is this Kyle?" There was no question of whom he spoke. "He is not Asgardian, that I know."

Thor glanced down at the floor, uneasy and uncomfortable with being the source of information on Emory once more. "I cannot say exactly." Loki's scowl deepened. He was not in the mood for games.

Thor hurried on quickly, "I can say in all honesty that I do not know. Truly. When she came back to Midgard, he was with her. She must have met him on her pilgrimage after her exile from Asgard."

He casually shrugged a shoulder. "He is not from Midgard, but what race I cannot say. He has been devoted to Emory the entire time they have been here, so I trust him because she trusts him."

Loki turned away quickly, a ball crashing against the wall as he kicked it in frustration. Tense energy crackled across his lithe body, sparking at his fingertips. His voice was low and tight. "I don't understand Thor! I thought she would have forgiven me by now. Would want to come home!"

He spun back towards his brother, emerald eyes shimmering with his pent-up anguish. "Everyday, I am so close to her, so close to a family, yet she is eons away. She shuts me out, turns away. Why, brother? Why can't I reach her?"

Loki didn't wait for Thor to respond, continuing on his rant instead. "I cannot make any headway with her. All I see is the ice queen; there is no warmth, no love. But the moment that _plebeian_ returns, a beautiful flower blooms in from of me. But not for me. No. For him!"

Rage lit his face, making the sharp planes of it even more severe. Shadows were thrown across his visage, mirroring the darkness filling his heart. "So I wonder, who is this man? Who is he, that he can make her smile, and laugh, and love when I cannot?"

Thor looked at his brother intently, curiously. He was not used to such displays from Loki, such emotion. Not for the first time the god of thunder wondered what all had happened to Loki, those times he had "died." He replied quietly, "I suppose we shall have to find out."

She faced away from the door, working through a series of projections while sporadically turning to type furiously on a keyboard. Long dark curls cascaded down her back, caught up in a makeshift braid.

The braid had no aesthetic value, messy and haphazard, strands falling out in random places, giving Emory a distracted librarian look. Of course, she was distracted. When the agent got so caught up in a project, little things such as appearance fell to the wayside.

To Loki, however, she was beautiful. He watched, mesmerized, as her delicate lips moved silently along with whatever she was reading. He knew that he was a fool, to have thrown such a treasure away as this. That thought reiterated itself when his competition for her affection walked past where the god lounged casually against the doorframe to look over Emory's shoulder and comment. Whatever he said, her face glowed with the resulting smile.

Jealousy wormed through his stomach, snaking its way up to wrap around his heart and settle uncomfortably in his chest. He honestly did not see any way of winning against such devotion.

Suddenly a warm hand clapped on his shoulder, and he whirled about with a knife in hand, cape flaring. Old habits died hard. To his surprise, the doctor faced him. The monster. Banner merely looked amused at the knife, thankfully, and no green showed anywhere on his skin. "I was going to give you some encouragement. And some advice."

Loki peered down his long nose at him. What could this mortal, however powerful, offer him? Bruce flashed a brief smile before continuing. "Oh, I know that look. Thinking you're better than me, right? Probably something about me being mortal?" Shock filtered through Loki's facade before he shut down all emotion. This one was quite perceptive. The grin grew wider, and perhaps a bit condescending. "Thought so. Maybe I'll keep that advice to myself for now."

He too moved past the god into the conference room, clapping him on the shoulder once more. As he passed, Loki heard, just faintly, "Puny god." He spun back towards the door, refusing to acknowledge or revise that particular occasion.

Finally, the room was full, and the door closed. All attention faced forward, on Emory. Again. She _hated_ public speaking. No help for it though; this was her brief to present to the team, no one else knew what was happening.

She took a deep breath before beginning, allowing the rush of air into her lungs to calm her. "As you all know, Kyle was attacked this morning in New York City. It's a bizarre occurrence, understandably. Kyle is quite…formidable." He smirked from where he stood, against the door with arms crossed, exuding confidence despite the new busted lip and bruises.

Interestingly enough, Loki sat across the table, doing his best to look menacing as he gloried steadily at Kyle, rather than watching her as he usually did. _Strange_. Pushing the thought to the back burner for the time being, she continued the brief. "Be that as it may, there was an attack. However, it is clear kidnapping, no assassination, was the goal. And beyond that, Kyle _recognized_ someone."

That got everyone's attention. Tony sat forward slightly, while Steve straightened his shoulders, as though bracing in anticipation for an impact.

She smiled encouragingly. "I feel that we don't need to be worried now. Or as worried, at least." She sighed. "The men were agents of Freyja, my grandmother, and patron. It seems apparent to me that she feels I am being held captive and wants to rescue me."

Thor, who initially looked quite shocked, began chuckling, a deep sound that boomed from his chest. "What a fine jest! That sounds exactly like her." He gasped to get words out between the laughs. "Too arrogant to check her facts before acting." Emory smiled weakly in response, the corners of her lips turning up sadly.

"A wonderful joke, if not for the loss of Bridgette," Natasha spoke up quietly. Suddenly, the laughter stopped. Pink and red climbed up Thor's neck as he suddenly began studying his hands. He had forgotten that SHIELD lost team members during this.

"Yes, well, there's nothing to do but move forward from this. Something about this bothers me, but until I can put my finger on it, there's nothing I can do." Emory frowned, allowing her worry to show to the others. "My grandmother surely meant no harm, and no doubt she is worried. I'll reach out to her soon, assure her that I am well and promise a visit soon. I could use a restorative pilgrimage home soon as it is."

The screen behind her flipped on, showing the imposing figure of Director Fury. "That's good news, seeing as all of you are about to be very busy." She turned quickly, taking in the scene and nodding before sitting down between Clint and Natasha to brief with the rest. Fury took a moment to look at the group, especially Loki, before starting.

"I'm glad you're all here; it means I don't have to repeat myself. We've got a problem, a big one, and I need every single one of you on it." He looked toward Emory. "Cara can stay with Maria until you get back, but we need you there."

The mother looked torn between her loyalties with her child and her team but quickly gained resolve. Sharing a look with Loki, she squared her shoulders and gave him another decisive nod. He took that as a sign to move forward.

The screen split into two images, a map, and a fuzzy video feed. The map appeared to be somewhere in Eastern Europe, while the feed showed even less, just the front of an old, seemingly abandoned warehouse. "We don't know what's going on in there." It could be meta-humans, maybe a super weapon, but we do know it's something big."

Several pictures flitted across the screen, each showing different imposing faces entering or leaving the building. Everyone leaned in as they began recognizing the faces passing in front of them. "As you well know, these are all notorious figures associated with Hydra and their contemporaries. And all of them have been seen in the vicinity of this building in the last few days."

Another image shot to the front, this one an aerial view in thermal. The building was much brighter than its surroundings. "This morning, a massive burst of heat and radiation shook this location and the area surrounding it. This flare is what I need you to investigate. It's simply recon, but because we don't know what we are up against, and we know these people are dangerous, I want all of you there."

It didn't go unnoticed when everyone glanced towards Loki and then sent questioning looks towards the screen. Fury smiled. "Yes, all of you. It is a good chance to see how he will cooperate with the team. Now, suit up."

An hour later, the quinjet took off, headed for a tiny remote country settled in the Western Himalayas. Natasha and Clint were in the cockpit, piloting the craft and having a quiet conversation discussing the faults and merits of going undercover versus simply staking a place out. Spies as always.

They were both fully geared, having an array of firearms, knives and specialty weapons scattered across their persons. Black Widow mainly had some new toys that she was eager to try out. Bruce stood between them, considering a role for himself that didn't include destroying everything in sight.

Tony, Sam, and Steve discussed strategy and how to implement all of the players on their team best. Currently, they debated between holding Loki back until he was trustworthy and throwing him directly into the front lines. It didn't take much to figure out who was on which side of that argument.

They too were ready for battle. Cap's shield rested against his leg, shining dully in the bay lights; suits were on, and wings strapped.

The four other-world beings sat in the back, none speaking, all wrapped up in tense silence as they pointedly looked anywhere but at each other. Bruce considered the situation. It was rather amusing, even if they were all acting like teenagers.

Apparently, they all independently decided to wear traditional battle armor, which made them look like an exclusive team. His mouth twisted in a sardonic smile. They all knew that wasn't the case. It was no secret that Emory and Kyle were devoted to each other, and it drove Loki mad.

Emory stuck out the most dramatically in appearance. Usually, as Nightshade she wore blackout combat gear, helmet included. Obviously female, but that was about it. She had guns strapped to her thighs and knives everywhere. Now, however, she appeared the priestess she indeed was.

Long, sweeping robes adorned her petite body, somehow making her taller and more imposing in their elegance. Deep purple and paneled in black, the robes stitched with archaic runes along the seems and hood in a brighter royal purple, the same color as her magical signature. Lengthy as they were, Bruce was sure Emory wouldn't wear such an outfit if it impinged on her fighting ability.

Even more amazing than her robes was the headpiece she chose to wear with them. A dainty chain settled upon Emory's brow, and delicate wings rose up from either side of her face to illuminate her already present beauty. The ornate detail throughout the entire piece was reminiscent of a crown, and indeed the whole ensemble made Emory look like the goddess queen she was.

Surprisingly, her two cats accompanied them on this trip, although the scientist had absolutely no idea why. Steve and Tony argued against it but eventually admitted defeat. The Asgardians didn't even bat an eye. Maybe taking pets into battle was a thing in their realm.

Where Emory was graceful and elegant, a true goddess, her companion was powerful and imposing, her warrior servant. Kyle too had chosen to forgo tactical gear for traditional garb, and it wore well on him.

A black cape fell from his shoulders, pinned by medallions carved into wolves' snarling visages. A chest piece in muted bronze covered his front, descending into a tunic and boots. Two long swords rose up from behind his head, where they strapped to his back.

Even more astounding was how the outfit made him more terrifying in appearance. A solemn grizzled face looked across the bay, scarred from many battles. One such scar ran the length of his jaw, from eyebrow to chin, just barely missing his mouth. The broad planes of his determined face reminded Bruce of the side of a mountain, just like rocky crags.

He recalled when they first entered the jet and the staring contest between Kyle and Loki. Or rather, not Kyle. Apparently, his name was Audolf. That announcement caused Loki's hackles to rise even further. The tension between the two put the entire team on edge, and he sincerely hoped that it wouldn't prove detrimental to the mission.

The Asgardians per usual elected for their standard battle garb, capes and armor, Mjolnir and long knives. Of course, Loki no longer had his scepter. Thor appeared uncomfortable, and Loki angry. The harsh whispers he and Emory exchanged before takeoff let everyone know that they too, were arguing. Bruce wasn't going to linger o it for very long. He needed to get his mind on the mission.

Finally, the lull of the engines drew him down into sleep. They would arrive soon enough, might as well be rested.

Before too long the rumbling of the land brought him back into the waking world. Captain America strode into the center of the group, commanding all the authority his role as a team leader gave him. "Alright team, here's the game plan." They gathered around Cap; game faces on. Weapons were hefted, armor was cinched, and as a group they took a steadying breath before clearing their mind for the upcoming mission, focusing on the team leader and the plan.

"We'll do some recon first using Sam's droid, and see what we're up against. Once that's done hopefully it will be clear whether or not this will be an infiltration job or an all-out assault." They all nodded in agreement.

The droid in question detached from the back of the quinjet, zooming out the door towards the building. "Okay, I'm coming up on the perimeter. I see posted guards every fifty feet, assault rifles, and the works. There's some kind of weird rod next to each of them. I wonder what that- oh shit!"

Wide-eyed Sam looked at the rest of the group in horror. "He's gone. The rods must be an EMP barrier. There's no way to get electronic eyes in, so I guess we will have to go in blind."

Tony threw his arms up, dramatic as ever. " I hate to be Mr. Obvious," he stated dryly, "but half of us rely on electronic equipment to get the job done. That thing has to come down."

Running his hand through his hair in frustration, Captain America huffed quietly before replying, "I'm not sure how we can get eyes in, get the EMP down, and plan an assault without being detected."

"I might have part of the solution to that." Everyone turned to Emory lounging against the bay door, legs dangling over the edge. She looked up from scratching Saphin's ears. "Nothing electronic can get in, but who would notice a pair of cats?"

"Are you saying we can use the cats as spies?!" Tony stared at her in shock and awe, seeing the cats in a more forgiving light. She smirked, the gesture giving her an elfin look.

"What you should really be asking is, have I already used them as spies in the tower?" Tony grew pale. The smirk widened into a full-blown grin. " I can see what they see. They're familiars, not house pets. Of course, they have their uses."

She rolled her eyes in feigned boredom, obviously amused by the astonishment crossing the faces of the less accepting members of their team. Steve gave her a long look, evaluating the pros and cons of this new development.

"Alright, send them in. Once we scope the place out, we can put together a real plan." She nodded absently, already petting both cats and whispering. Suddenly she barked out a sharp command. " _Leita!_ "

The two felines touched noses before bolting off towards the compound, slinking from shadow to shadow. Emory smiled softly at her familiars before bringing up two images in the air with a wave of her hand, the view from the cats.

The view was odd, in a sort of distorted way, all the colors swimming together. As well, rather than standard colors, everything was in red and yellows and oranges, with hulking gray shapes in between. These cats saw in infrared.

"I sure hope you know what we are looking at," Tony mentioned sarcastically, regaining some of his composure and dislike for the felines.

"It's a heat-based 3D model." Clint stepped forward to get a closer look, moving his hands to gesture at the shapes. "These are the trees surrounding the perimeter, and now they are coming up on the EMP. See how it's purple?"

Dark red blobs dotted the edge of the fence, indicating where the guards stood. They were paying no mind to a pair of cats slipping through the cracks. The cats moved from shadow to shadow, stealthily making their way to the hulking gray mountain that was the warehouse. More red blobs showed where guards were posted outside those doors as well.

Instead of going to the doors, the pair jumped up on a ledge and wiggled through a broken window, gaining access to the interior. The large room that encompassed the entire building was empty. No heat showed up at all.

The cats prowled further inside, wary of the quiet. As they gained the floor, what appeared to be a massive wall loomed over them. After sniffing cautiously, they turned the corner and stopped.

Natasha swore at the sight before them. Even in the altered view of Emory's familiars, she knew what that was. Four incubator-like devices sat in a row on the floor, each with a strangely glowing occupant. The cats' views showed them as a pale blue, rather than the typical red of humans.

"What the hell is that?" Banner had peeked up from his slouched position to peer carefully at the view. "Are those more altered humans?"

Steve closed his eyes, carefully composing himself before replying. "It appears to be. As it is, we can't assault this place until we neutralize their wild cards. Someone will have to go in."

Suddenly the view whirled about, back towards the door. Someone was entering the room. The animals slunk back onto the shadowed ledge, ready to watch the goings-on.

Two figures walked up to the wall and began touching it. It must be some kind of console. Behind them, a struggling figure was dragged into the room and forced into a vacant pod. Though strapped down and sealed in, the person struggled no less. The watchers stepped back behind the wall, and with a push of a button, a blinding bright light filled the room.

When the glare faded down again, the figure lay still in the pod. The person struggled no more.

"We need to get in there. Now."

Emory let the images fade from view, and then turned her head towards Steve, tilting it quizzically. He nodded before turning to the team. "All right, Spy Pals, I want you in there. The rest of us-"

"If I may interrupt, I do not think that would be the best plan of action." Steve looked sharply towards Loki, indignant at being interrupted.

"Loki, I know you are new here, but I am the team leader."

A slow smile crept across the god's face, his upper lip forming into a soft sneer. "I am aware of your status, _sir_ , but do please hear me out. Both Ms. Romanoff and Mr. Barton are well-known SHIELD agents, and have most likely had multiple run-ins with these people." He gave a brief nod at the pair. "I am not questioning their abilities, but they _will_ end up recognized, and this whole thing might turn into a rescue mission."

Steve stiffened at the sarcastic jab Loki sent his way but relaxed with the decent insight that followed. "He may…have a point. But if not them, who?"

Loki's smile deepened, turning him into a child filled with glee at the prospect of an upcoming adventure. "Why, Emory and I should go. We are both experts of illusion magic, and can easily change our appearances to suit the mission. Furthermore, even unarmed, we will have our magic as a weapon, and can remove ourselves quickly from harm."

Emory stretched backward from her post at the bay, allowing her lithe body to rest on the floor as her slender legs dangled off the side. She blew upwards into her bangs in irritation, causing them to fly away from her face, before turning her head to the group. "Unfortunately, everything he just said is accurate and sound."

Her estranged husband became even more gleeful if that were possible. Almost all of his teeth were showing as he jibed, "What was that dear? You said I was right?"

The cold gaze she turned on him would have killed any mortal, freezing their soul from their body, but he was no mere mortal. A little cold wouldn't hurt him. Emory turned her attention back towards Steve. "What do you want to do?"

He sighed before placing his hand over his eyes in stress. "Go on. But please for the love of God, keep him out of too much trouble."

She raised her eyebrows playfully, wiggling them dramatically in response. "I shall do my very best, but I make no promises. How about we promise to come back in one piece?"

He groaned loudly as they jumped to the ground below, heading through the forest towards the base. "I'm going to seriously regret this."

Tony snorted in reply, while everyone else broke out into grins in anticipation for the upcoming antics.

"Well since this was all your brilliant idea, you can be in charge. I know how much you love being in a position of authority."

Emory's dry comment sparked an annoyed eye roll from Loki, but no more than a grunt in response. She continued. " What, no pithy reply? No brilliant plan to make yourself the glorious god you were _destined_ to be? Surely you have something in mind."

His face tightened even more, but he continued to hold out against her onslaught, walking through the thick green forest in silence. "Well, this is new. _King_ Loki has nothing to say, and no commands to give. I do believe you have lost your commandeering touch."

He had had enough. Whirling towards his wife, the god pushed his companion into a nearby oak, using his large frame to press her into the rough bark. His hard hip against her soft form didn't go unnoticed by either person.

Emory gasped slightly, a pink tinge flushing up her face at the contact. His head was whirling with the scent of her, moonlight and herbs, so close to him. He drew a deep breath in before speaking, savoring the flavor of his distant wife.

"I do not think you realize the amount of effort I have put into becoming a better man since I became king. I know now I was wrong for what I did." Her eyes widened at the admission. "Yes, you heard correctly. I was wrong. I have been a hard, cold, ruthless man in the past, only focused on gaining power and respect. But not anymore!" He took another deep breath, now too upset to really smell her beneath him. His voice quieted as he continued until his tone was barely over a whisper.

"Now all I want is to have my daughter, and my _wife,_ and go home and be happy and normal." The tone became pleading. "Emory, I have realized since coming here and being a part of this team what I am missing. There is camaraderie here, a sense of family that I never realized I needed. I have seen a side of you around these people that you never showed me. And that is my fault as well. You trust them. I didn't deserve your trust. But I am trying to gain it."

She shifted under him, trying to dispel the nervous energy. Emory tried to look away, but he grabbed her chin to direct her gaze at him. "Look at me! Please…look at me. See me trying to make things right."

His hot breath streamed across her face, bringing with it the scent of sage and spice and something all him. "Ever since I came back, you have not looked at me, but through me. I am there, but barely enough to acknowledge my presence. Acknowledge it, and acknowledge your emotions for me! Whether or not they are good or bad. What do you feel?"

So she looked. Emory gazed into his face, taking in his distraught appearance, hair askew as it framed sharp cheekbones, falling between eyes that burned with a fierce intensity she had never seen in him before.

 _He actually cared._

What did she feel for him? She studied him further, thinking. Before, there was a burning hatred, anger at him for the machinations of his father, anger for his apathy towards her. Neither had wanted a spouse at the time.

That fire had died down now. She no longer hated him. "I…I don't know how I feel." She looked down again, bashful, but he brought her face up once more, gently this time. "Then why will you not allow yourself to see if you could love me?"

She looked into his eyes, drawn in by his electrifying stare, sinking deeper and deeper into the emerald depths, darker now with the forest around him. She was drowning, and suddenly he bent down and took her lips with his, gently at first, but adding more and more pressure as she didn't draw away.

His persistent ministrations soon were rewarded as she found she could no longer resist. She kissed him back, and at this turn he took the opportunity to push his hips into hers, pressing her up against the ancient tree behind them. Continuing the kiss, he framed her face with his hands, becoming more and more intense in his desperation to prove his affection to her.

Suddenly Emory realized what was happening. She was kissing Loki in the woods, like some _hormonal teenager_. She broke away, gasping for breath, unable to move past the barrier of his body.

He had the decency to look down, slightly ashamed. Emory's blush deepened as his body stepped away from hers, leaving a cold space she yearned to have filled again.

"I need time to think about things. The middle of a mission is not the time to hash out relationship problems. But I will consider…us." He smiled slightly in relief, before turning away completely.

"I suppose that is fair. Besides, there is _Audolf_ to consider as well. I would not want to have your lover challenge me over his _honor._ "

Emory snorted once, before really hearing what he said. Once his statement registered, she began laughing. It started as a small giggle, quiet and childlike, but it soon grew into a raucous laugh that reduced her to tears as she slid down the tree, finally holding her arms around her knees until slowly, the laughter dissolved.

Throughout all this, Loki stared, confused and slightly taken aback at this show of apparent hysteria. Once finished, she looked up at him through wet eyes, tracks of tears still present on her face, and smiled condescendingly up at her estranged husband.

"Audolf is _not_ my lover." She giggled again at the thought before continuing. " He's my brother! My guardian. He was given to me when I was initiated as a priestess of Freyja, to protect me and give me counsel, to do what needed doing."

Loki barely heard the rest of her explanation through the roar of his thoughts. Not her lover? Better yet, a close relative! He felt a dopey grin grow across his face at the idea. She had no one for comfort, but he was right there, offering it up. Perhaps he had a chance after all.

"Loki, are you still in there? We really ought to keep going."

He turned back towards the tiny woman next to him. "Yes, I suppose you are right. Let's go be spies." This last statement was said in a convincing British accent as he morphed into a taller, blonde haired man with an impressive build and a neat, tapered beard.

Emory grinned up at him as she morphed into an Asian woman, several inches taller, especially considering her stiletto heels. Tight clothing and a leather jacket completed her look.

In a just as convincing British accent, she replied, "This should be fun."


	14. The Compound

Forest soon gave way to the fence, the guards straightening as a rugged black Jeep crunched onto the gravel drive, signaling unexpected visitors. The two passengers looked entirely unconcerned as black muzzles and loud shouts raised to block their way.

The driver, a lean blonde man with a jagged scar cutting through his short-cropped beard, glanced lazily at the gun in his face as he obliged to the loud commands to stop the vehicle at the gate.

He rolled the window down slowly, reveling in taking his time to taunt the foot soldiers. A captain appeared at the door, saying through a thick accent, "There is no access here. You must go back; ya?"

The stranger smirked before replying in perfect Russian, "I am precisely where I need to be. I have an appointment to see your….merchandise. Alaric Blakesleigh, Earl of Alfinshire."

The short, dark man gave him a long evaluating look before turning to his radio to confirm the information. After a few seconds of unintelligible squawking back and forth, the captain nodded towards the gate, allowing it to open and admit the pair.

"So far, so good," murmured the lithe woman in the passenger seat. Her almond shaped eyes glanced back and forth, evaluating the risks surrounding them.

Her companion spared a glance her way before replying just as quietly, "All will be well love."

She gave a small, shy smile in return. The SUV soon made its way to an area set aside for parking, where the guards swiftly escorted them to the central warehouse. Standing in the shadows given off by the late afternoon, underneath a large awning, a squat, rotund figure waited. The man was short and round, with a broad face and long jowls that gave him the unfortunate appearance of an unhappy toad.

As they approached, he clumsily picked himself up from his lounged position, striding forward to alternate before bobbing up and down in a ridiculous bow and shaking the taller man's hand vigorously.

"Lord Blakesleigh, I had no idea you were coming so soon. There was hardly any time at all to prepare a proper demonstration." The short man fawned over him, pumping his hand up and down as Blakesleigh did his best to extract it. "Malic, my lord, at your service."

Despite his discomfort, the earl answered with a charming smile made slightly devious by the vicious scar running down his face. " Ah yes, well my schedule moved up suddenly Malic, and I am no longer in this area as long as planned." He leaned forward conspiratorially. "Trouble back in Wales, of course. Cannot keep those peasants in line one day without me there." His crisp British accent only added to the charisma surrounding him in a heady cloud, almost as thick as cologne.

"Of course, of course. If you and your...companion could come with me." He allowed himself a glance at the woman next to the earl, acknowledging her for the first time.

"Ah yes, this is my assistant, Nadia. Say hello, dear." She flashed a brief smile towards the squat man, glaring at her companion as soon as he turned away.

Malic walked forward towards the door. "After an initial screening, we can enter and begin the demonstration." Puzzlement crossed Blakeleigh's face as Nadia bristled at his side.

"Screening? Whatever for? I have worked with Hydra for years and have never required any screening."

He received another nervous smile and hasty bow. "Nothing serious my lord, simply to make sure no weapons or communication devices come into the testing room. You must understand our increased caution since Hydra was revealed a while back."

"Ah, in that case, lead on! Things to do today." Another bob followed. This man was eager to please, no doubt looking for a promotion of sort with the good fortune of a good sale.

They quickly left the afternoon sun behind, entering into artificial lights and crisp shadows. The darkness made it impossible to determine just how large the room was, or who might be there with them. Nadia instinctively stepped closer to her companion, tensing subconsciously in response to the unknown.

There escort humored her with an amused smile. " I assure you, my dear, there is nothing at all to be afraid of. Our weapons are under total control at all times." He obviously thought her frightened, and seeking protection. Fool. She did not fear any man here.

A sharp squeeze from Blakesleigh quieted her tongue, halting a terse reply that would have been out of character. Instead, she forced a blush, looking down to hide the anger in her eyes at his blatant condescension.

"I'm sure, sir... I just don't like the dark."

He smiled again before continuing, "Before we go any further, all weapons must stay here. You may have them back at the end of our tour."

The earl scowled slightly before divulging two guns hidden under his coat along with several knives. His companion, however, gave up only one blade. The two guards flanking them stared blankly before combing her. Nadia shrugged in feigned innocence once they realized she did only have the one knife.

Blakesleigh clapped his hands sharply in anticipation, causing the Toad to jump slightly. "Alright then, let us begin. I have a busy, busy schedule to keep this evening. What is this amazing new weapon Hydra is developing?"

Malic smiled in gruesome anticipation, brown and broken teeth showing through his fat lips. "Oh, it's wonderful my lord, what they are doing here. Just wonderful." He gestured through to the next room. "If you would follow me."

The group passed through a heavily fortified door into what appeared to be a walk-in freezer. The temperature drop was instant, hair standing on edge to brace against the frigid assault. Their breath puffed out in front of them in a white mist, silvery in the artificial light.

"Now here is where we store our serums. To keep the product stable, it must remain at a frosty -5 degrees Celsius."

Blakesleigh's crystal blue eyes widened in anticipation as he stifled an excited gasp. "Serum? Have you managed to recreate super soldiers finally?"

Their guide showed his gruesome grin once more, slowly revealing a disturbingly dark look into his inner workings and soul. "Better. This serum has not only enhanced the human being, giving them faster reflexes, hardened constitution, and incredible strength; it also contains a mind control unit. Not only are our soldiers super, but they are also completely under control."

A blonde eyebrow rose in intrigue. "That is truly amazing. How did you finally manage it?" Blakesleigh murmured.

Malic gave another conspiratorial grin before replying, "Secret ingredient, of course, can't have any competition, but I will tell you this. It's rumored there's some sort of magic rock involved."

Both eyebrows rose to meet his hairline. "A magic rock? There's no such thing as magic. I didn't come here for children's tales." The earl turned to leave, yet was hindered by a grubby hand grasping the hem of his pristine suit jacket.

"No! It's no tale! You remember the troubles of New York, with the god who invaded with the aliens? The power comes from his scepter!"

The woman jerked infinitesimally before forcing a shiver to cover her action. Her companion's mouth went slack before he recovered himself as well, murmuring, "Extraordinary. Alien technology, and magic? Amazing…"

His mind appeared to go elsewhere for a moment before he recovered, shaking his head and turning his attention back to the Toad, who continued oblivious in his self-importance. "...and the serum takes several weeks to develop, which increases the price of our product, of course."

Blakesleigh smiled indulgently. "Of course."

The Avengers were bored. It never suited when only a few went in at a time, and Loki and Emory left hours ago. Bruce sat reading a book, unaffected by the wait. He would stay behind regardless.

Clint pulled a pack of cards from one of many pockets, and several joined in on a rousing game of poker. Thor sat with his eyes closed, leaning back against the paneling while Steve and Tony murmured together in a corner.

Suddenly, a figure stood in their midst, appearing out of nowhere. In the blink of an eye, a mass of weapons raised against the man, who stood amused and relaxed.

Loki grinned, obviously enjoying catching them all by surprise. Smug, he began. "We got in with no problems, using an alias I have developed over the years. He's fairly deep in the crime syndicate and is well known to Hydra."

Tony looked up sharply. "Wait, you have aliases? How often are you on Earth?"

"More importantly, who is your alias?" Natasha's arms crossed in front of her. She was not pleased with this news one bit.

Loki smiled once again, following her train of thought, before morphing into his alias form. "Alaric Blakesleigh, Earl of Alfinshire, at your service, my lady."

Her jaw dropped in surprise. "I have been chasing Alfinshire for years! That's you?!" She threw a blade at him in frustration, but of course, it only passed through the illusion. "You shot me once!"

Loki's smile widened.

Steve stepped in before things got out of hand. "Anyways, back to business."

"Ah, yes. So, we got in no problems, and are currently on tour of the facility. I would have waited, but the news is important. And bad."

Looking up from his book, Bruce finally entered the conversation. "How bad? Like, bad morning because the creamer turned, or end of the world bad?"

The god of mischief considered for a moment before deciding. "Somewhere closer to the end of the world. They have the scepter, and they are using it to create a super serum."

Steve turned sharply from gazing out the back. "Super serum? You're sure?"

The god grimaced before answering. "It's worse. They are using the properties of the scepter to build in mind control, so now they have soldiers and complete control. That's why it's pretty bad and not just bad."

Natasha snorted, arms crossed against her chest as she stared him down, thinking the problem over. "That might be a bit of an understatement _Trix_ ," using the nickname she had given Loki shortly after his arrival on Earth. He hated it, and Natasha knew that. She continued, "We need to shut this down now before they mobilize. The whole plant needs to blow, we need hands on the scepter, all research on the serum needs to burn, and all the experiments as well."

Steve looked pained as she finished. "Are you talking about the people they've transformed? They're just innocent people!" What went unsaid but still heard was, They're just like me.

A sigh came from behind him, Loki smiling sadly. "You cannot save everyone Captain. I agree with Agent Romanoff. We need to terminate everything, and everyone, involved, so this can never happen again." Steve was unable to face the hard truth, not when he wanted to be a hero. "I am sorry."

The soldier hung his head, awash with guilt and more than a little upset. Tony came up behind him to clap a comforting hand on his shoulder. "So what's the plan Cap? We have to move soon."

New resolve glittered in his eyes as Steve looked back at his teammates.

As Loki came back to his prime body, he took in a very bored Emory trying to appear as though she were hanging on to every word their small, toady guide said. She looked over sharply from the corner of her eye as she noticed his return, while continue to gush girlishly at the creature before her. "That's so interesting!" It was a wonder the man did not hear the falseness in her voice. "Do they scream much?"

Loki quickly flashed the gist of their plan into her mind. _We need to get into the room where they keep their weapons._

She smiled simperingly. "Do you think I could make them scream?" She said it softly, enough that he had to lean forward to hear her, giving him a lovely view of her breasts.

He stared for a moment, drawn in by her charms, before sputtering out, "Oh, abs- absolutely! We can go right now!" With that he hopped towards the door, quite like the Toad he resembled, grabbing her by the hand as he went.

A look of disgust flashed across Emory's face as he punched in a code and laid his hand on a reader, before quickly being replaced by an overly excited, slightly ditzy smile. Before long, they were in the experimentation room; all five cryogenesis tubes lit up. Screens next to each showed vitals and a description of powers. Unfortunately, each lay frozen in a moment of horror and panic, faces twisted in silent screams.

Once the doors closed behind them, cutting Malic off from his guards, a look of firm resolve crossed her face as she snapped Toad's neck when he glanced away. She conjured a poison, floating purple and pulsing above her in the air, that she then dispensed into the tubes. "At least it's quick," she commented as their vitals plummeted and then flatlined. Once the five were dead, the pair set fire to the room and turned away. The guards in the next room were little trouble.

"We need to get the barrier down now, while attention is on the fire." Loki checked around a corner, making sure the way was clear before hurrying forward.

Emory grinned mischievously in reply. "No need. The cats are taking care of it."

Loki gave out a groan. "That is a frightening thought. Those two….they cause so much trouble."

An elegant eyebrow raised was the only response he received for his comment. Then again, the irony that he, God of Mischief, worried about someone causing _too much trouble_ tickled her wicked sense of humor.

As she grinned at him in delight, a thunderous boom shook the compound. "Barrier's down," she said sweetly. He glowered down at her in reply. "We should be ready to go now."

Both conjured comms from the quinjet and checked in with the team. "Loki and Emory here, kicking ass and leading cats," Emory quipped before Loki had a chance to speak.

He sighed dramatically, loud enough for everyone to hear and appreciate. "The lab is burning, and the barrier is down. We have eliminated the targets. You are clear to enter the compound and attack."

"Finally! I was starting to get bored. Let's fuck some shit up!"

"Come on Tony, do you have to be quite so vulgar?"

"Sorry Granny, didn't mean to offend. Go on back to church. We can take care of things here."

"I'm into the computer system, deleting all files and information on the serum. I'm also compiling a flash drive of pertinent intel they have on the server." Nat's voice cut in. "Maybe you two children can continue this later." Her put-down silenced the channel, putting them all to work.

The two shapeshifters reverted to their natural form, both in full Asgardian battle regalia. Loki looked at her from the corner of his eye. " Have I told you how much I appreciate you in robes such as these?" He stepped closer, pressing her against the wall. "So majestic, so regal. Almost as if you were made for a crown."

A deep warmth rushed up through Emory's body, settling in the pit of her stomach and her face, painting her cheeks pink. " _Loki_. We are in the middle of a battle!"

He smirked down at her, pressing closer. "Hmmm. I'm sure they can manage without us. They have before, a few minutes alone will not harm anything. But for us…" He cupped her jaw with his hand, pulling her eyes up to gaze down at her, a strange fire shifting across the green of those orbs. He leaned in, their breath mingling as he dropped his voice, "But for us, a few minutes alone could mean everything."

As she looked up at him, her breath hitched in her lungs. What was this? Where had all of this intensity and passion come from? Loki had always been so cold, so aloof. When he did turn to his wife for gratification, it was matter of fact, almost robotic. This...this was different. _Who are you?_

It wasn't until he replied that she realized she had asked out loud. "I am Loki," he replied simply, pushing even closer. "I am your husband, and...I am a fool." He closed his eyes then, cutting her off from that intense burning, and put his forehead down against hers. "Emory, I am a fool, have been a fool. I was so caught up in what I thought were the injustices to my station, to my rights as a Prince of Asgard, that I did not understand the gift the Allfather gave me when he ordered our marriage. I imagine…" Loki smiled softly, thinking back. "I imagine that he knew what we did not. He knew that together, we are a force to be reckoned with, and uniquely suited to each other."

He took her face in both of his hands, pulling Emory forward until they were almost touching. "I was angry, and I took that anger and focused it all on you. I treated you so very poorly, and you did not deserve that. I am so sorry," he whispered.

She studied him through thick lashes, searching for the inevitable lie. Surely he did not mean all of this; surely he was not repentant. Search as she might, however, there was nothing in his face but pure regret and love. _This is enough. I can accept this._

With that idea spurring her on, she closed the gap between them, pushing herself fully into his arms, opening her thoughts to him completely, so that the mental link they usually ignored flooded forward.

Loki gave a start at this connection, relishing the emotions floating towards him, all of her thoughts flitting back and forth. This connection told him that she too wanted him back. His arms tightened around her as he buried his face into the curve of her neck. They stayed like that for a long minute, just allowing the mental link to strengthen and stabilize.

Then the wall exploded inward.


End file.
